When I was a kid we didn’t have Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa (the latter is due to the lack of African-Ukrainians). We had New Year, with Ded Moroz and Snegurochka, “New Year’s” Tree, presents, and obligatory toast at midnight. New Year was the only Soviet holiday that wasn’t associated with any communist or revolution bullshit.
People dressed up, even at home, the table was covered with hard-to-find delicacies and drinks. Then my Mom made me take out the trash one last time, which involved going 3 floors (81 steps) down to the cold and dark yard. Then everyone waited.
Few minutes before midnight the General Secretary of the Communist Part of the USSR would congratulate the Soviet People with another giant leap toward communism made in a previous year and wish them to make even more giant step next year.This is what it looked like in 1971. I only expect a few readers to recognize who this is, Leonid Illyich Brezhnev died before some of you were born. I know it’s in Russian but I am sure you’ll recognize every other word being “socialism” or “communism”. Brezhnev loved himself a long speech. He could go on for hours but he knew that vodka and champagne are getting warm and people restless. But there was no escape: all three channels had the speech on. Soviet people had to be congratulated whether the wanted it or not.

When the General Secretary finally shut up, the Kremlin Kuranty rung midnight, the universal signal to start the festivities. That’s when we toasted New Year, my Dad would go outside and leave a bag of presents right behind the door, I don’t think we even wrapped them. We usually didn’t stay up for too long. I am still not a night person. I still like New Year better than all the other holidays combined. Nobody is born, no miracles of burning oil, just a clock of life ticking along, all the bad things are behind you and a brand new, bright and shiny year is ahead.

This year I will be celebrating in St.Louis with a bunch of other Russians, old style. Even three months of Christmas music every year can’t make us forget who we are.
I wish you all a Happy New Year, I hope that you will prosper, win a lottery, don’t get sick and have fun.
P.S. To all the beautiful women who want to date me next year: I will be appearing here starting January 2 so you know where to find me.

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And God blessed them, and God said to them, Be fruitful, and multiply…
Genesis 1:28

Evolution is a great thing. In a world without evolution only beautiful people would be able to reproduce and the Earth would be populated with the clones of Fabio (or as someone admitted – John Edwards) and Julia Roberts. Enter an unfortunate  side-effect of the looks-based-reproduction, namely a gradual lowering of the worldwide average IQ. Here is where the evolution came up with an ingenious solution of supplying the below-average-looking fat males with small genitalia with a an amazing tool-set for seducing beautiful women of their dreams who otherwise wouldn’t even grant such males a second look.

My non-existent love life automatically makes me an expert perfectly qualified to write the following article. If you are a good-looking male, with a perfect body and an award-winning penis, this is how far you should read. I am pretty sure you are starting to get a headache from all the big words I’ve used so far. You’ve won in the genetic lottery and your existence assures that all of the mankind doesn’t look like me. Thanks for being there for us, go do a few crunches or something.

We can now continue without that one douche-bag who just left. Males of many species have different ways of attracting the most beautiful and unavailable females; from peacock’s tails to the giant deer antlers, the natural world is full of examples of males getting what they want when otherwise they wouldn’t have any chance. Just like our smaller brothers we have some things we can use to inject our ugly but smart DNA into the human gene pool. These do not require any special effort, like exercise or diet; you probably already have some or all of them as you read this.

1. A foreign accent. Contrary to popular belief, a foreign accent is not a handicap. In the love game it’s probably one of the best assets you can have. Accents drive women crazy and sometimes just after a few words she will do anything to hear more of your randomly swapped v’s and w’s or, even better, a whole word in your native tongue.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6QUFqiJx9k

Few words of warning on the accents: two similar accents cancel each other out. If you are both from Australia, all the talk about shrimps and barbies will not turn her on. On the contrary, the other person’s accent becomes annoying and embarrassing. Another note of caution: if your accent makes you sound like Larry The Cable Guy, you better have his kind of money to be able to seduce the woman of your dreams unless it’s Nancy Grace.

2. Learn to cook something from scratch. To impress a woman you don’t need to be a Wolfgang Puck, you just need to be able to cook something she’ll like preferably without using any recipes you got from watching Semi-Homemade Cooking show on the Food Network. Whether it’s a steak, a hamburger, fried chicken or borscht, it’s the process and your skill that will fascinate her, so Shake’n’Bake wouldn’t do the trick. Cooking may also include baking or cocktail making. Anything that only you know how to make will get you closer to the target.  However, don’t go too wild unless you know who you are dealing with; she may not appreciate your Coq Au Vin but may be pleasantly surprised with Chicken and Dumplings.

3. Get a pet, and by a pet I mean a cat. Dog will not allow you to leave for those romantic long weekends and will interfere with you enjoying your morning together. Other pets may be scary, disgusting, annoying or smelly. On the other hand, virtually every woman loves a cat, and will come back to your house repeatedly just to scratch your cat behind the ear. Placing a cat photo such as this anywhere in your dating profile pretty much guarantees you a constant stream of “icebreakers”.

4. Poetry. That’s right, a poem will make your woman’s heart melt. You don’t need to be Walt Whitman, start with something simple and romantic like:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I am here naked.
Where the hell are you?

If you want to impress her even more, haiku is the way to go. I am at a disadvantage in this department since I can’t count syllables, but it doesn’t prevent me from faking it. Just make sure you always have three lines:

Writing haiku is hard,
but I try
for the hell of it.

5. Get some title or an achievement, for example you can become the Best Blogger ever or get a PhD in some obscure subject. Published works, books, photos in the local newspaper, sex tape, whatever it takes to pique her interest.

6. Impress her with your knowledge. Be careful not to bore her with a discussion on pros and cons of various Linux distributions, comic heroes and their superpowers, or some special maneuver you use to beat a game on X Box. Instead you can impress her by knowing the capital of New Hampshire, or pointing out the difference between a crocodile and an alligator.

To summarize, if you are short in all the wrong places, fat and ugly, not all is lost. Just use your accent, skills and pets to seduce the woman of your dreams and remember: it’s survival of the fittest, not necessarily better-looking.

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Today, May 19th, is the Soviet Pioneer Day. In order to properly celebrate the holiday you need to print out and wear the following badge…

…report to work marching in the uniform, blowing the bugle…

…and singing this song.

–Young Pioneer, be prepared to fight for the cause of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union!

– Always prepared!

Here are a few more illustrations on the subject.

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This morning couldn’t come fast enough. I haven’t had a date for a long time and ever since I saw the sign with his name on it I couldn’t get it out of my mind. When it was finally lunchtime I ran downstairs with my car keys in hand and within a few minutes I was approaching the building where it was going to happen.

O, how I longed for this minute. My heart was beating faster and faster. There was no way this date could go wrong. With the name like Reuben, I knew he wouldn’t disappoint. All the signs where pointing to the place where we will finally meet.

My heart was pounding and the things happening with my mind and body could only be understood by an experienced medical professional. I timidly approached the counter and whispered: “Reuben, please”. The wait was becoming unbearable. I had to run outside to see if he was ready.

He was getting dressed. My lips were smacking in anticipation. I ran back inside.

Then out again.

This was starting to feel like torture. Sweet, sweet torture. I was ready to explode. Finally he was mine. I stared lustily, he was all there – seductively spread in front of me, on a slightly grilled hoagie roll, covered with slices of thick-cut pastrami, cheese, sauerkraut and topped with the thousand island dressing, so hot, steamy and beautiful.

His smell took over my car turning it into a prison of anticipation and impatience. We still had to get back to my place. I couldn’t keep my eyes on the road.

I couldn’t think of anything else, I just wanted to touch this hot mess with my lips, swollen with desire. I don’t remember much of the ride. Finally we were alone.

The short ride helped me regain my senses. I wanted this to last as long as I could, and this I could control for a change.

I could, of course, dig in face first, impatiently devouring my beloved Reuben, tearing into the hot dog, pastrami, roll, taking greedy bites until nothing was left. Or I could take it slow, savoring a bite after delicious bite. The choice was hard. Maybe I should’ve made it a threesome so I could experience it in every way. I chased impure thoughts out of my head.

Slowly I started to cut it in small pieces. Sauerkraut juices mixed with dressing were getting me even more excited. O, what a pleasure every small bite was. I could do this for hours.

Finally it was over. I thought about smoking a cigarette but then remembered that I quit 13 years ago. Reuben almost made me get back to the old habit. I listened to the music instead.

“The best four dollar date I ever had” I thought to myself making imaginary smoke rings, “I wouldn’t mind doing this again”
Hot Dog Haven, Armour Rd. Kansas City,MO.

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I do…

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