Tuesday, April 7, 2015

I Just Sharted in My Pants Again, by Vladimir Putin

Vladimir Putin - 2006.jpg

Do you see my face? Look at it closely. Take a good long look. Go ahead. Don't be shy. Soak it in. This is the face of a man who just sharted in his pants, and that man just so happens to be me. 

Although sharting in my pants isn't something I'm particularly proud of, I'm not exactly ashamed of it either. After all, sharting in your pants comes with the territory of a shady, diabolical, corrupt, homophobic, xenophobic, kleptocratic quasi-dictator, as you can tell from my face, which can only be the face of someone who just farted a little bit, and in so doing, accidentally released a small amount of loose stool into his silk banana hammock.

Every time this happens to me I'm kind of surprised, although in retrospect, I really shouldn't be. After all, on New Year's Eve 1999 (when I became Acting President of Russia after Boris Yeltsin unexpectedly resigned), I was already halfway in the tank with eight Stoli and Tonics on board for the huge turn-of-the century New Year's Eve party I was throwing in Moscow that night (it was EPIC, btw); and I totally sharted in my pants when I found out I was going to assume the presidency. But I've been sharting in my pants since my KGB days, so I'm not exactly new to the art form.

Now that I'm in my third term as president (MAN time flies!), sharting in my pants is pretty much par for the course. Like when that whole thing went down during the Sochi Olympics? With the "homosexual propaganda" stuff? Well, first of all, I sharted in my pants for JOY that my country was FINALLY standing up to the gay agenda. Then I sharted because a shirtless photo of me riding a horse surfaced, and I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea.

I had just barely finished scrubbing out the streak marks from that whole clusterfuck when the Crimea thing happened, and the whole Ukraine deal shat the bed (no pun intended). Then I was sharting all over the place and had to basically travel with an entourage of personal undies-changers.

I'm pretty sure that's when this particular picture was taken. Clearly, I've just sharted in my pants here (again). There's simply no other explanation for the expression on my face.

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