Kerry looks like Irish-Polish father of Julie - Gary Carpenter. Julie Carpenter was my girlfriend from 1977 until december 1978, when she moved to California, to San Francisco. Kerry as tall and skinny as that father of Julie. Gary was an FBI oficer, responsible for diamond trade. I mean he worked at department of FBI responsible for diamond trade. That why I trust Kerry, strangely enough, because father Carpenter was a serious, good, noncurrupted oficer. So, unconsciously I believe that another look alike old guy Kerry is also serious, good and uncorrupted. Father Carpenter was a father of eight children, including Julie. Julie’s grandmother, Gary’s mother was Polish. She warned Julie from having relationships with a Russian, with me. Russians are all drunkards and they all beating up their wifes, said Julie’s grandmother. And she wasn’t very far from truth, when she said that. But Polaks are also big drunkards, although I don’t know about them beating wifes.
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Archive for October, 2004
Bush, Kerry, Putin and Company
Friday, October 29th, 2004Fellow, named Surkov
Friday, October 15th, 2004
Fellow, named Surkov, have addressed to nation huge piece of words, two entire pages of them, swarming as worms. 360 millimeters high and 560 millimeters wide. I am talking of course about Surkov’s now-famous interview to “Komsomolskaia Pravda” in its issue of September 29. Interview is intended to explain to Russian people, those who are readers of yellow newspaper Komsomolskaya Pravda Putin’s programme. Because our monarch Vladimir Putin have sended to his subjects his personal message by his personal footman Surkov.
Surkov is 40 years old, educated, graduated from “Institute of Steel” and from “Institute of International Affaires.” So he is educated footman, who worked in succession for Bank Menatep, for Yukos and Alfa Bank, then from 1999 Surkov is appointed to Putin’s Administration. Although born in willage Solntsevo in Lipetsk Region, he is not a man of people, but President’s man. He is probably very proud of himself, coming from village into Kremlin’s offices and halls. I bet he is enormously proud of himself.
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Hight Society Evening
Friday, October 1st, 2004I arrived to “Praga” restaurant by smallest Russian vehicle - “Oka” one-door tiny car, where we were packed, four National-Bolsheviks, counting our driver - Yuri, ex-patrol man. Other distinguished guests of Radio “Echo of Moscow” were driving much more distinguished vehicles - I noticed them stepping out of foreign “BMW’s” and “Mercedeses”. Yuri have stayed in his tiny car, as I comrades Dmitri and Iliya went to restaurant. We when through metallo-detectors, then mounted on second floor, where jass band was playing. “Praga” is old-fashion building full of columns, huge windows, carpets, palm trees, all that retro chic, you know. So Jazz is playing, National-Bolsheviks on my sides, I am entering that gathering of beaumonde. It is 19:15. Although soiree have started at 19, the place is swarming with people.
First who I saw was chef-editor Alexei Venediktov, his red scalp hair looking like a barbed wire bouquet. My butterfly-tie, white shirt and black velvet jacket made him happy. He shaked my hand and said in delighted voice - The only man wearing a butterfly-tie here is the leader of National Bolsheviks party! - I have counted on your appreciation - said I. Congratulations, your radio is only one left island of liberty in Russia.