FUCK YOU DIMA!!!! (Or how to kick a three-legged dog in the balls)

Yeah, am I bitter? Yes. Am I pissed off? Shitteously! Am I hurt like a three-legged dog that just got kicked in the balls? Without a doubt!
And why you might ask?
Because I got into a "serious" relationship over here ya'll. Now please, have a good laugh at my expense because I'm such a dumbass. First time I fall in love with a man in seven years and he turns out to be such a dick that I might just go play for the other team for reals this time.
Now let me start out by saying that when I got together with DIMA he was living with another girlfriend, and had been living with her for the past three years. Here is a quick summary of our six month relationship, which by the way is the longest relationship that I've been in since college:

- Girl meets boy. It's love at first sight.
- Boy leaves his other girlfriend and moves in with girl.
- Boy eats all of girl's food and sucks up whatever financial means she has at her disposal.
- Girl quietly complains about money but boy cooks really good food and fucks like a stallion so girl continues to ignore the fact that she's supporting a man-sized baby.
- Girl and boy are in love. Girl introduces boy to her father. Everything is great. (Except for the fact that money is tight and girl is getting kind of needy and clingy because she's so in love)
- Boy goes away to a music festival and comes back all distant and shit.
- Boy increasingly needs to hang out with his friends without girl and is even more distant.
- Girl begins to feel insecure and unattractive. And also, suspicious.
- Girl and boy only have sex in a dirty nightclub because he's hardly ever home anymore.
- Girl's financial situation improves (because man-sized baby is eating elsewhere) while her emotional state deteriorates.
- Girl asks boy if he's fucking other women while in a hysterical state. Boy admits that "yes, when I need to." FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING CUNT ASSHOLE MOTHERFUCKER!!!!
- Boy gets a new girlfriend without telling girl about it, and judging by the looks of her, has no intention of breaking up with girl because new girlfriend looks about 19 so she probably has no income and lives with her parents, thereby not being in a position to support boy. DROP DEAD YOU USING PIECE OF SHIT COCKSUCKER!!!!
- Girl finally breaks up with boy via text message after a solid month and a half of depression and inner-turmoil. Boy doesn't even bother calling girl back.
- Girl calls boy and tells him to get his shit out of her place. This is when information about new girlfriend is confirmed. FUCKER!
- Girl's heart is so fucking broke she may never love again. At least for the summer.

The End.

This was the best and worst relationship that I have ever been in. And the funny part is that when I got together with this sorry excuse for a Siberian abortion, I knew that it would turn out this way. I knew that eventually, I would be in the exact same position as the girl he was with when he and I got together. And I told myself that when that happened, I had to bail out immediately, and also, under no circumstances am I to fall in love with this fucking gigolo. And then, I just, forgot. I fucking forgot. So I guess the only one to blame here is not me, and not DIMA, but my shit ability to remember things. FUCK YOU MEMORY!!!! Next time work better.

I swear, next time I meet a man, I'm going to write a big reminder right above my bed so that we can both see it every morning. It's going to be something like "THIS MOTHERFUCKER WILL SCREW YOU OVER EVENTUALLY. DUMP HIS ASS THE MINUTE SHIT DON'T SEEM RIGHT AND DON'T FALL IN LOVE NO MATTER WHAT." I am actually going to do this. But I'll write it in English so it's not such a shocker for him every morning.

All laughs aside, I really hurt and don't know how to make it stop. Any advice will be appreciated.

Quick Russian joke

What is the difference between a pedophile and a pedagogue?
The pedophile REALLY likes children.

My Short and Agonizing Visit to HerpesVille

I don't have herpes, but I do have the Flu.
I just wanted to get that out there so everyone can feel sorry for me. And it's not the bullshit "slight cough/moderate sneezing/sort of a fever for 1 day" flu. No, it's the "high fever for 3 days/throat-tearing coughing/swarm-sneezing" kind of flu.
Anyway, this has nothing to do with the herp, but I just thought that I'd explain my general state of mind at the moment, and also, as previously mentioned the sympathy thing.

So, this post is going to describe in detail my brief visit to what I like to call HerpesVille here in Frozen Hell.

It all began with the night that I went out on Halloween. As everyone knows, Halloween is super fun because it's that special time of year that every girl gets to let her inner (and in my case outer) slut out. So me and my new little friend (I change these on a monthly basis, but I really like this one, so I hope she sticks) dressed up as two goddesses and went out on the town. We ended up at a party, had a fair amount to drink, and naturally I ended up taking some American dude home where we engaged in all sorts of rough'n'fun until the wee hours of the morning. We parted amiably enough when his roommate called him from the afore mentioned party because he couldn't find his pants and needed my gentleman friend's help in locating them. What kind of retard can't find his pants in the morning? And Irish one! That's what kind. Never trust the Irish. Because they'll put a dent in your bathroom door and put you in all kinds of situations where you can get your ass kicked. They're all like Popeye the friendly sailor man, except instead of spinach it's booze, and instead of super strength, it's, um, super retard.

When I got home, still all innocent and doe-eyed, I decided to take a nap. Imagine my totes shock when I wake up to find something not right in my most sacred of sacred places. Yeah, I felt a Dum Dum Dum "blister". I, being a complete and total hypochondriac, immediately think "HERP! » Now don't get me wrong. This ain't the first time that I've mistaken something for herp. This happens to me every couple of years or so. Usually, I handle it pretty calmly. And by calmly, I mean I freak out and run to a doctor, at which point they take one look at whatever it is that's got my panties in a bunch and tell me that it couldn’t 't possibly be herpes because it's on my elbow or something.

But this time, something was different. I'm guessing it's the fact that I'm here in Russia. So this was on a Sunday, and come Monday, I'm thoroughly saturated, and what do I do? The most retarded thing I could have imagined myself doing. I don't go to a doctor. Instead, I call up the last three dudes that I slept with and ask them if THEY have herpes. Yes, I really did that. Including the American that I had just slept with. He couldn't have possibly given it to me but I figured just in case, I should go ahead and include him in on my heart attack (which was now turning into a communal affliction).

Here's how these conversations on the phone went:

Contestant #1 - Blind Diabetic from New Zealand.

-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Oh Jesus P! That's just what I need right now! No, I don't have herpes. So when do you think you gave it to me?
-I gave it to you? Screw you! If anything you gave it to me.
-Well, you slept with that American guy this weekend. He seems dirty. You should call him. He probably gave it to you.

Contestant #2 - Psychopath musician from Russia.
-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Herpes? No, I definitely don't have that. But once you get that all cleared up, please consider me for a permanent position as your Saturday night lover. I'm in the countryside for the weekdays, but I'm here in the city every weekend.
-Seriously? I just told you that I might have herpes. Really?

Contestant #3 - Nice guy from America (Couldn't have possibly given me the herp)
-Hey Blank, how you doing? Say, you don't have herpes by any chance, do you? Because I just found something that might be that.
-Um, no I don't have herpes. I've only slept with two women since I got checked for it 8 months ago, and you were one of them. And uh, I couldn't have given it to you because the incubation period is too short. Can please give me a call after you get tested?


Please note that the only man not completely freaked out by the word "herpes" in this scenario was the Russian. That's how they roll with STD's here in Russia.

Okay, so after doing this completely asinine thing, I went to an expensive VD clinic to get my lady parts checked out. The first thing that I thought was kind of "funny" was that they kept insisting that herpes is not a venereal disease. They don't think of it as an STD here in Russia. They don't even think it's a particularly big deal.
The second thing that happened was that the doctor took one look at it and was like "yeah, that's herpes alright!" And when I said "but couldn't it be something else?" Her reply was "no! This is herpes. We're doing a culture because you're insisting on it, but it's purely perfunctory at this point. I assure you that this is herpes."
Also, she kept asking me what I normally use to treat my herpes. She asked me this twice after I told her that I'd never had it before. Like "what do you normally put on your herpes?" "Lady, I already told you, I've never had herpes before so why and how the hell would I put something on it?" I even asked another doctor in the place if that first doctor is ever wrong and she was like "no, that doctor has been doing this for years, and if she says it's herp, then it's herp."

So, as you can all imagine, I was fairly bummed out by this point. I mean, really bummed out. All I kept thinking of was "Motherfucking Russia gave me Herpes!" Bad enough that it's cold and wet here, but now it's given me a venereal disease. This is bullshit ya'll!

And just as I got used to the idea of living, biking, swimming, and showing with herpes, thanks to Valtrex or whatever, I call this morning to get my "perfunctory" test results back and BAM! it's not herpes. Just like that. I was too relieved to be pissed off about the absolute surety with which that cunt of a doctor was trying to convince me that I had an incurable STD PRIOR to performing the definitive testing.

Anyway, I've done a lot of personal reflecting over the past few (7) days and have come to the conclusion that I'm not letting one more dirty bastard in this country lay a finger on me ever again.

I am, however, going to Iceland for New Years. Iceland is clean and pure, so that's a whole nother matter...

The moral of this story is never believe Russian doctors. Or, don't sleep around. No wait, it's yeah, never believe Russian doctors.

Fuck my Heart! (Or a Handy Guide to the Mating Rituals of the Russian Proletariat)

I have no idea.

Did you people seriously think that after a mere 10 months in this fucking nasty ass, lonely, cold, foul-weathered hellhole, I would even come close to understanding how these people get their date on? Fuck that noise. I don't understand anything about the way these people get together, stay together, or to be more precise, what the motherfuck they want from me.

So this isn't so much a guide, as it is a list of what I've observed, experienced, and learned in what can now be called, close to a year, in this country, as far as dating and fucking is concerned. These aren't in any particular order, so don't bother looking for continuity.

1. Russian women have a shelf life. I think we all know this. They are some of the most beautiful women in the world, but once they hit 28 or so, having already popped out a few babies, they pretty much look like they're 40. A really hot 40, but still, these bitches look way more used than a woman from the States might. What most of us don't know is that:

2. Russian men have a shelf life too. Holy fuck do they ever. And theirs is actually shorter than the women's. Shit, in Russia, their life in general is considerably shorter. So it shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that they hit midlife around 24. Yeah, that's cause they only live to like 48 tops. So you start out with these beautiful blond waif boys, that at some point between the age of 23 and 24 go through a physical metamorphosis which causes they necks to become the same size as their heads, their heads to become square, their bodies to become squat like a dwarf's and covered by a dense forest of dark hair, and their pretty blue eyes to become bloodshot, while their skin gets riddled with broken blood vessels. This is also accompanied by pig pot bellies caused by excessive drinking. Actually, I think a lot of it might be caused by the excessive drinking of alcohol, cologne, antifreeze, and all the other creative shit they think is drinkable during a bad hangover. What, you thought gopniks just came out of the womb like that? Discovering this particular fact may be one of the biggest disappointments of my life.

3. Russian men suffer from something that they call "Scared Dick" over here. It was recently pointed out to me that all men have this problem from time to time, not just the Russians, but to be perfectly honest, I've never encountered it among men from other countries with the frequency that I have here. "Scared Dick" is exactly what it sounds like. It's when a guy is nervous around you and can't get his shit up until he feels more "comfortable" around you. You kind of have to hold his hand and pet his head til the ED goes away, or something. I always thought that I was very understanding when a guy suffered from performance anxiety. But Jesus fucking Christ! Get over your dick already. I'm not going to break it. I've handled one before, and it was fine. Still on there. Haven't had any screaming complaints.
I would also like to note that I've fucked plenty of Russian Jews back in the States, and non of them had this problem. So I'm thinking it's not a cultural thing so much as... I'm not racist.

4. A large chunk of Russian men don't seem to understand the concept of a one night stand. They understand hookers, and how you don't need to try to have a relationship with each one of those just because they fucked you, but free ladies? No. They don't get that. The second you fuck a dude here, he thinks it means that you want a relationship, and tries to instigate one with you immediately. Frankly, I don't even know how to respond to that shit. Back in the States, if you had a one night stand and the dude actually bothered asking for your number, and then actually called you, you weren't in a fucking relationship until you BOTH decided that this is something that you want. Here in crazyland, you fuck a dude, and BAM! His ass is calling you the very same day (no two day wait period for these Speedy Gonzales'), and faster than you can say "give me a second to wipe your sperm off of my stomach", you're in a goddamn relationship. And then you have to go to his fucking Dacha with him where he has an axe and it's kind of creepy because you just met 4 days ago. Fuck!

5. Russian men say "I love you" about as often as normal men say "How you doin'?". Yeah, they throw their "I love you"s and "I'm madly in love with you"s around rather freely. This might be their way of guaranteing that you keep letting them put their penis inside of you, but I like to think that it's so that no one can blame them when it clearly turns out that they didn't mean it. So you can't ever ever believe a Russian dude when he says it. He pretty much has to back that shit up with a marriage before a smart woman will actually believe him. Lucky for him, this country is full of stupid bitches.

6. And now to combine the two points above. Once you're in that weird, way too fast, way too soon too serious relationship, he will tell you that he loves you, and if you have really shit luck, he will actually mean it. Or so it will turn out, when you dump his ass after a month and a half of what you thought was casual dating, and he thought was mating for life. Even though you told him, you actually told him with your mouth that you were not in a serious relationship. You told him this WHILE you were dating, on a number of different occasions. So, naturally, when you do dump him, he completely loses his shit and proceeds to accuse you of spitting in his soul, not caring about his emotions, and throwing him out like garbage. Because Russian men are not too proud to act like jilted little bitches.

7. Every Russian man has a baby. Somewhere, somehow, he's knocked some bitch up at least a year before you met him, and has a baby. And he loves that baby, but he's not going to tell you about it when you first meet. You're going to figure it out by looking at his photos on Facebook. Now I'm not saying that this is weird or anything, but I do think that a child might be worth mentioning on the second date or so. If it's not too soon for me to go to your Dacha with you, it sure as fuck shouldn't be too soon for you to tell me that you have a kid out there.

8. Point 7 applies to men as young as 18. They're still pretty and waifish, but they too have a fucking kid somewhere out there.

9. If YOU (ladies) happen to be stupid to enough to actually fall in love in this country, it's absolutely going to be with the one guy that doesn't want to be in a relationship. It's going to be with the guy who thinks love is made out of Satan. He'll tell you that he loves you. He won't mean it. He'll tell you that he wants to spend time with you. He won't. But he'll keep fucking with your head so that you keep waiting for him to do the whole "love/spend time together" thing with you. He'll text you and send messages online, and even send you love songs, just to make sure that you keep loving him. Until finally, you remember how old you are and unfriend his ass from your Facebook account, and hope that he doesn't call you anymore.

10. Russian condoms come in several varieties. Durex, Contempo, Romantic Love...They are all made in China. They are all counterfiet. They all break! Thankfully the morning after pill is sold in every pharmacy here, and costs a wopping $3. Thanks Russia! Too bad the morning after pill isn't also the magic "STD-B-Gone" pill. During my brief vacation to the U.S., a friend gave me 250 Lifestyle condoms. Thanks!!!!!!

11. I'm not mentioning women in this list only because everyone knows that Russian women are disloyal bitches and are not to be trusted. Don't believe Russian women. Also, they all swing both ways. There are no strictly straight women in Russisa. Might be cause they're all so hot, might be because the men are all dirty liars with babies on the side, point is, I can't deal with either gender here.

That's pretty much all of the data that I've gathered so far. I hope that it has been educational, and for those of you planning to travel this way, a warning.

Experimenting with Russian Ya'll.

I actually wrote this when I was still back in the States. It's a poem in Russian. That's right. I can barely write in the language so I decided to try my hand at poetry. So, em, those of you that don't read Russian, read no further. Sorry. I still love you though. Oh, and those of you that do read the language of the Bear, I know there's a line in there from the Pixies. Imitation is the highest form of flattery ya'll.

Also, I somehow managed to come up with this word combo for men in Russian:

Мужчины! Это тайна, обернутая в загадке, задушенной в умственно отсталом.

So here's the poem:

Старомоддия

Ох, это старо как кожа
Руки
Красные пятна, признаки греха
Проживание слишком хорошо
но где была забава в крике?
От любви прибывает мучительная смерть невинности
Она имеет бедра как Красная шапочка
но упала на ее лицо в тех ботинках на высоких каблуках.

Государство Осуществления
Государство Истощения
Граф Допамина и Наркотика
Навсегда преступник, вечно обвиняемый.

Волки все вокруг
потеряя шерсть овец
Показывают клыки
Зубы, которые хотят почву и хотят Море

Ах, любовь

Und here's another short one:

дорогую жемчужину в море нашла
отбросила штучку и дальше пошла
как будто она мне совсем не нужна
подумав " Зачем мне жемчужина одна?"

ведь еслиб было много
то можно продать,
а так, одинокая, не отдать, не понять.

Но встретила смерть домой по пути
И смерть мне сказала "ну где? Покажи."

Concert with Crazy and Joke Y'all!

So I had a fun concert with Crazy last Thursday night. Although, truth be told, I forgot to eat that day, and two pints of beer later that's all she wrote as they say. My memories of the show are, ahem, a bit skewered. These are just some pics from the concert.
Also, Here's a joke that I heard here recently, not sure if the translation works. Let me know:

On a cold dark winter night in Poland, in 1941, a tiny skinny girl in a torn coat with a yellow star sown on the sleeve is walking down the street.
A stately German officer in a great overcoat is walking directly towards her. As he approaches her, he looks her over and says
"Liitle gerl, you must be a jew."
The little girl looks up at him with her big brown eyes and says
"No motherfucker, I'm a Texas Ranger!"

Deep Thoughts by Plusha

Dear Friends,

Today's post is going to be about a new deep and profound understanding that I've recently gained about the country that I currently reside in.

I figured something out about Russia the other day. Being in Russia is a lot like being in a mental hospital. Those of you that have seen the inside of one of those will understand, but for those of you that haven't, I'll elaborate.

See, when you go, or get put, inside of a mental hospital, and you're only marginally off your rocker, it's actually a very therapeutic experience. Because there you are, walking on the outside, feeling all batshit crazy, and then you get into a mental institution and Bam! you get to see real crazy. If you have panic attacks, and you end up in a place where one dude is sure as shit that he is Napoleon, and there's a fat lady that tries to eat her own face on the regular, you start thinking "Hey, I'm not crazy. I'm really sane compared to these nutjobs." And it makes you feel a whole lot better about your own mental state and problems in general.

And as it turns out, Russia is very similar to this. The people in this country are so fucking nuts and okay with it, that me and my little panic attacks are nothing in comparison. I'm the Queen of Sane here.
Specifically, the words "blood pressure" seem to have a mystical effect on the populace in these lands. I think I could probably stab some motherfucker in the neck, and when the militsia show up, just say some shit about a sudden drop in my blood pressure at them, and they would probably nod understandingly and send me home after giving me a shot of cognac.
Sometimes, you see people on the street here, and they look drunk or ill, but it's really BLOOD PRESSURE problems. BLOOD PRESSURE can pretty much explain away any behavior. I love it!

There's nothing like this in the U.S. People in New York are really not into trying to understand other people's mental problems. And there's no acceptable excuse for those problems either. It's like an embarrassing secret that everybody has. I looked at the statistics ya'll. There's more anxiety sufferrers in America than most other countries in the world. And yet it's not okay to have it.

But here in Frozen Hell Crazy Land, they just call that shit "blood pressure" and it's all good. They also call hangovers "blood pressure". And everybody is really understanding about it.

As a result of all the understanding, my own personal crazy has practically evaporated. And for that, I thank you Mother Russia, shit climate not withstanding.

Well that's it for today.
P.S.
I think I just got dumped over the telephone. I feel a little bit sad about it. I swear, it just happened in the middle of writing this post. See? Crazy...