To- Vladimir Putin
Internet tough guy, gay icon, president of Bosnia (Google that one and find out which province he is actual prime minster of and then come back and fill that in).
Thank you for hating the gays, I have been in-training for the Winter Olympics for weeks now and all of a sudden you hate on the gays and for whatever reason, I am just going to boycott you now. Thanks. To be honest, I’m not that good of an ice dancer anyway. As you probably know, my family has been an integral part of the Olympics for over 100 years now.
A little history.
In 1972 my mother, god rest her soul, decided that in good conscience she could not attend the Albanian Winter Olympiad because of the great Mouse Massacre, as I’m sure you are well aware. The so-called Mouse Massacre was indeed a kGB enterprise, using a Disney movie set in a plastic kingdom in Luxembourg to kill and maim thousands of innocent chocolatiers, or something. It got lost in her drunken storytelling, but the bottom line, my mothers destiny to be a gold medal winner was stolen from her.
As you may have heard, my dear father was in training for the summer Olympics of 1968, but of course tragically he lost both legs on the slalom course. Ironically, he was not even on the slalom course at the time, but that’s a whole other mystery that no one seems to want to talk about.
Of course my older brother famously held his arm up in defiance at the summer Olympics in Mexico City to protest the over use of avocado and corn tortillas at Olympic Village housing breakfast and lunches.
He came in seventh in the 100. No one says anything to him, he is a medicare commodities trader in New York City, imagine the family shame.
My first sister began ice skating when she was one year old and everyone knew she would someday win a gold medal. Of course former president Clinton ruined that when he “Lewinskied” the Olympics in ’96. She recovered, but only after a year in rehab and three years on skid row (in that order, sadly).
My oldest sister missed the Winter and Summer Gay Games of 2000, boycotting because of some sort of misunderstanding as to what sort of “objects” she was allowed in her carry-on luggage.
I wish it all ended there, but in 1936 my grandfather was the designer of the Azerbaijan Olympic uniforms, which consisted mostly of a garish pink belt and some well worn Nazi leather vests. His insane designs caused my family so much shame that it would be another four years before any family member would take part in the Olympics.
My great grandfather was a long distance runner in the ’40 Olympiad, held in Switzerland. Of course, during those Olympics there was also some war going on and my great grandfather ended up being the only athlete who took part in those Switzerland Olympic Games. Obviously he never actually received a gold medal for the race he won (alone, I might add) but for the longest time he would show off his empty bottle of Switzerland’s best ale, “Smoldenbergen” and declare that this was indeed his gold medal. No one ever believed him, tragically.
Strangely, my great great grandmother was one of the first competitors in the 1896 Olympics in Greece. She was not an athlete, per se, but more of a massage expert, if you catch my drift. Great Great Grandma was quite famous in the Olympic training room and while she did not take home a gold medal, she did leave Greece pregnant with a child who would someday become my great grandfather, born 17 months after those games ended, a long and painful pregnancy if ever there was one. Luckily that son of her’s would go on to compete at the first no-Olympic games, an absurd sporting event held for the first (and last) time in Paris in the late summer of 1922. If you know anything about history, you will remember that during the summer of 1922 Paris was boiling in the hottest and most humid time in that once great cities history. Great grandpa competed in the three man wheelbarrow and mascara race. He won the plum colored medal, which still hangs obscenely on my own wall as I write this. I say obscenely because those non-Olympic game medals were all created in the image of a vagina, a design from the unknown artist Pablina Pacasso.
So Great Communist Dictator and Unbelievably Gay Icon Putin, I am sorry to say I will not be making it to Sochi anytime soon to compete in what is already being called “The Worst Olympics in History” which by the way, will be surprising because the actual Worst Olympics in History is, of course, the Budweiser Poodle Olympics of 1986, but I won’t bore you with those details.