As many of you are aware, Vladimir Putin wrote the US a Letter. Here’s his letter. Here’s my answer.
Dear Vlad: A Response
Is it okay if I call you Vlad? Considering how many times I’ve seen you shirtless, I feel like our relationship with you has reached that level. Speaking of which, nice job wrestling those bears. The world is a safer place with so many demoralized Russian bears.
Not edited by me.
Anyways, we read your letter, and I gotta say, you drive a hard bargain, Mr. Putin. I mean, what can I say in our defense? It’s totally accurate to point out the hopelessness and quagmire that would be a war with Syria, and the need to use caution when assessing blame for chemical weapons. And who better to lecture us on giving weapons to potentially rogue nations better than the head of the Government that gave Syria all of their chemical weapons? I mean, we’d be fools not to trust your judgment on this, especially considering that you also armed Afghanistan in the 80’s to fight us naughty imperialists.
Now, to be fair, we’ve done our fair share of arming potentially dangerous groups for our own nefarious gain. We ASLO armed the Afghans in the 80’s when they decided to fight against you. And won! Look at that! It’s almost like one day, we’ll be as good at arming terrible regimes as Russia is.
Perhaps by now, you being of extreme Russianness, you’ve notice a churlish sort of tone to this letter. And frankly, if you paused between shirtless, kick-boxing, Vodka-selling photo-ops (and let’s be honest, who would?), you’d notice that maybe the idea of you writing a letter to the American people like a obligated pen-pal relationship with a prison inmate might not be the greatest way to get to us. I mean, I think the last time I wrote a letter, it was when I was trying to remember what a cursive ‘Q’ looked like, and I never did figure it out.
And maybe making it a point to say that we’re not special or remarkable isn’t the way to our hearts, either. I know that in Mother Russia, car drive you – I get it. Tough love, or tough….death, I think is the more appropriate term, is the way of things over there.
Childhood, Russian Style!
But do you think the best way to tell us that we’re not special is to be a president and address us in our biggest newspaper? I mean….getting a personal letter from a head of state makes us kind of a big deal, man. At least, here it does, and it also usually doesn’t come with a jail sentence or a fruit basket (even though that would be nice.)
Look, Vlad. I’m gonna level with you. This whole ‘look at me, I’m saving the day!’ bit is fooling exactly no one over here. (Bachman doesn’t count.) You can try to tout the chemical weapons deal with Syria as a victory. Or you could, if you hadn’t given them the weapons in the first place. That’s sort of like a doctor shooting someone in the face, then taking the credit for removing the bullet and saving their life. Which, in this context, also sounds supremely Russian.
You’ve got no credibility here. And apart from being a tad full of yourself, you’re also batshit crazy, which would be a bad combination anywhere but your homeland. I mean, in what other country would a bear-wrestling shirtless guy with a thinning hairstyle be against Gay rights? (Seriously, google ‘bear’. It’s not gonna be an animal.) And you have your own Vodka. Is that also awesome? Of course it is. But you’re not a professional whale-exploder, Vlad (or are you?). You’re a semi-flabby politician, and having your own Vodka while also having a comb-over is creepy. Like Donald Trump inventing his own spray-tan. Sure, he uses it, but it makes him awful, so why would be buy it? (Sidebar: I totally have a bottle of your Vodka, and die a little inside whenever I see it.)
Admit it, you thought I was joking about the Vodka.
So, Mr. Putin, I present this to you: the next time you feel like reaching out to a foreign people, maaaaaybe try not to sound like an old weirdly-super-conservative-but-anti-war-also college professor who spent too many years missing the Pogroms and staring sadly at your Comrade hat. Also, skip the insults. In fact, you of all people just need to be yourself – wrestling a bear shirtless to pitch your vodka is what we in America call “Thursday on TLC”. By the way, if you ever do get your own American reality show, I get a cut. It’s in writing now, so its binding. MURICA!
On Behalf of the American people, and with Love,