He rides horses bare-chested, wrestles bears and kills tigers. He dumped his Soviet-era babushka of a wife in favor of a twenty-something gymnast. His latest gimmick is a calendar composed of pictures of young, lingerie-clad women who admit on their pages that they want to be intercoursed by the Russian Premier, one every month.
Here's a link to that. There's very little you can say critically about this calendar, except maybe that desirable female journalism students in Russia, which is what these women are said to be, seem to think that the only appropriate colors for lingerie are black and white. Let's get down to Victoria's Secret Moscow before shooting starts for next year's version of Violate Me, Vladimir, girls, and color things up a bit. Some purple and red would be nice.
Also that if you hit the "translate" button on Google, the English version of the calendar's copy sounds exactly like something Boris and Natasha might have said to Rocky the Flying Squirrel, if Boris and Natasha wanted to brag to Rocky that these girls who are begging to be penetrated by Putin have nicer breasts than the girls inFemen, the European topless female protesters, who are generally anti-Putin.
We're pro-Femen around here, because we are safely half the world away from Moscow and can support these brave, nearly naked women without risking getting tossed into Lubyanka, but we're not saying the pro-Putin Pussycats are a bad idea. Especially now that the endless American Presidential election cycle is gearing up for another billion-dollar attempt to get us to vote. Hillary is saying and doing nothing, in a possibly vain attempt to avoid boring the American public to death before they get a chance to mark their ballots for her, but the Republican dance card is filling up fast with wannabee Chief Executives, and there's no reason each and every one of them shouldn't be putting out a girly calendar featuring the women who want to have sex with them. We, the voting and leering public, deserve at least that.
"Hold on there, Bub," I can hear you saying. "There's twelve months in a year, you know. Are you saying that there are twelve women in America that want to have sex with Jeb Bush and also look good in a g-string?"
Yes I am. There must be. I mean, Obama set the precedent by having Obama Girl. Sure, there was only one of her, and it's only a matter of time before you see some nasty little hit-piece pop up on your browser under the headline "Obama Girl—What Does She Look Like Now?" with a picture of OG that makes it clear the years haven't treated her any better than Mama June, but the bar has been set, and it's up to those dreaming of the White House to raise it.
Don't tell me it's not possible. I mean, Ted Cruz would be tough, but we'd let him search Canada as well as the US. More cheerleaders in Texas than there are months in a millennium's worth of calendars, so Rick Perry has no problem. A youngish stud from Kentucky who's also an ophthalmologist has no trouble scoring, and when you're Rand Paul backwoods babes come scrambling out of every holler to run their fingers through your hair weave. Bobby Jindal has the option of filling his calendar with Southern cupcakes or Bollywood beauties.
Wisconsin honeys who would pose for Scott Walker wearing nothing but cheesehead hats? The line forms on the right. Are there at least twelve plus-size models aching to bounce bellies with Chris Christie out there? Count on it.
And if Sarah Palin really wants to run, she can put out a calendar of firemen who want to put out her fire. I guess. It's only fair. She's not going to win, though.
Ben Carson's not likely to capture the nomination either, but the "Prison Guys Who Want to Have Sex With Ben Carson" calendar ought to sell out.
The best thing about this idea is that, if one of these men gets elected President, they are ready to go toe-to-toe with Putin in the arena of lingerie models who want to have sex with them. Forget the fact that he's modernizing his nuclear forces, or building an aircraft carrier that's ten feet longer than one of ours. When Putin tries to spring his next surprise on us by challenging America to a lingerie model slap-off for world supremacy, do we want to take the risk of being unprepared?
No. We want to be ready. And we want to watch it on pay-per-view.