A Letter to the President of Russia(David Mahoney) Letter to the President of Russia

Dear Vladi,
Well I must say you have got yourself in a bit of a pickle, haven’t you? I had warned you about spending too much time alone in the Kremlin with your entourage of A.L.s – by the way, that doesn’t stand for Advisory Lieutenants!
Invading your neighbours is so passé. Nowadays alpha males have discovered a new method of venting their frustration or camouflaging their inadequacies: they send dickpics! I’m sure President Zelensky would have definitely been shocked to receive a dickpic from you, but I doubt whether he would have used it as an excuse to initiate a war.
Like me, you have now reached an age that your physical and mental powers are waning but, as I mentioned in our last boys night out, Viagra does work. And believe you me, there are better aphrodisiacs than launching rockets to blast the hell out of innocent people. Try talking to your wife and explain the problems you’re experiencing. I’m sure she’ll be willing to “lend a helping hand”.
Yes okay, you were bullied at school and your father enjoyed beating you with his strap and your mother never once said that she loved you nor ever comforted you – join the club! Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Put it behind you; go to Siberia and wrestle a bear or, don’t tell the wife that I suggested this, hire a prostitute and have her massage your buttocks while you cry your eyes out screaming “matushka, mama…”.
We both know that you have anger issues caused by both internal and external factors. That being said I hope you will not take this letter wrongly. There’s no need to send one of your monkeys with an umbrella full of nerve gas to come looking for me. I’m only trying to help, as your wife was quite distraught when she phoned me yesterday. No need to be paranoid, we’re just friends and I promised her that I would drop you a line and give you some advice based on my many years’ experience of working with unruly adolescents.
I’ll tell you what, why don’t you pack up your guns and I’ll come over for a drink. We can chat up some girls and spend a few hours drunkenly reminiscing.
Remember the moral of the story we read together: it’s not always your enemies that drop you in the shit, and it’s not always your friends that pull you out.
Sleep well,
Bert

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