Dispatches – What Pootin Wants

We live in interesting political times, if interesting can be a euphemism for society weighed down by populations living in opaque bubbles, blind to their own braindead expositions:

“These pretzels are making me thirsty.”

“You got half a beer in front of you.”

“I was thinking of getting orange juice. Like yours.”

“This? This is a screwdriver.”

“What are you? A damn Ruskie?”

“Hell no. I get my screwdriver with Wild Turkey. It’s called America.”

“Hell yea.” [Fingers bartender to order his own America.]

“We gotta do what we can till Barry Hussein’s outta there. Trump’ll handle that Pootin right.”

“Yeah.” [Sips drink ruminatively.] “Even Putin knows that. He said, you know, Trump’s talented. And real smart.”

“Pootin knows he’s met his match.”

“Yeah.” [Sip.] “Kinda makes you wonder, why would he say that?”

“‘Cause it’s true.”

“Yea, I know, but… Putin wants to keep beating us. He beats us with Barry. He beats us with Hillary. So he doesn’t want Trump to be president. Why would he say all that stuff?”

[With eyes askance] “You sayin’ it isn’t true?”

“Not that. It’s just, it’s like he’s saying we should vote for Trump. And we know he doesn’t want us to vote for Trump.”

“Well … he is Russian. They play mind games. Like them KGB guys in the Red Dawn.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. They can do their mind games and turn soldiers against their kin. He’s trying to turn us.”

“Yeah.” [Smiles] “Yeah. He knows we’ll do the opposite of what he says.”

“You mean the stupid ones’ll do that.”

“Hell yeah.” [Raises glass] “We’ll do exactly what Putin says. That’ll show him.”

[Both salute and finish their drinks with a flourish]


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