It is officially the first day of winter, and frankly, I’m already DONE with the season. The ONLY good thing about winter, is Christmas – and, when I lived in Australia (where, as we always say around here, EVERYTHING WANTS TO KILL YOU AND EAT YOUR EYES FOR JUJUBEES!!!), it was REALLY BLOODY HOT in December.
Having to wake up to a dark and freezing cold day, where you get a maximum of six hours of actual serious daylight, is depressing, annoying, and just plain miserable. It is even worse if you have to travel for business.
Be that as it may, it is genuinely hard to believe we are already at December in the calendar. The year whizzed by really damn fast – though I seem to say that every year, as I get older. There is no doubt, however, that events are moving much faster than many of us expected.
Those of us who have been tracking the Banderastan War – as I have – know and understand that Ukraine is hurtling toward total collapse. I know I have been saying this for, like, 15 months now, but the fact is that not even the most deluded and promiscuous Western presstitute can deny the catastrophic situation in Ukraine now.
You do not have to look very far to see pictures of Ukrainian teenagers being drafted into the AFU – these are mere BOYS, barely old enough to grow patchy fuzz on their faces, and certainly not old enough to know a woman’s warmth, in most cases.
Already, we see videos and photos of women – some of them pregnant – fighting, and in far too many cases, dying, in trenches filled with mud, blood, and unmentionable things, on the front line.
A country that sacrifices its yoot as cannon fodder, will not survive as a nation.
And a country that sacrifices its women, which are its only source of more cannon fodder, does not deserve to survive as a nation.
As I pointed out earlier this week, and as others like Big Serge and Simplicius the Thinker have stated openly, Ukraine’s fate is a terrible one. It will be left as a broken, landlocked, totally impoverished, desolate, infertile, and doomed Shitholistan – a bleeding, cancerous, pestilent, pus-filled ulcer on the border of Europe.
And it deserves that fate, after what it has done.
The speed at which events move, is enough to make one’s head spin. My recommendation for dealing with it is to sit down with a glass of fine wine and a good book, in the nearest cosy armchair, near a fireplace, preferably with a snoozing golden retriever acting as a pillow for your peacefully sleeping child, and ignore the rest of the world as you enjoy the simpler things in life, while your wife bustles around in the kitchen to rustle up a delicious meal.
That is how you deal with a world gone batshit insane – by being as normal and simple as possible.
And with those august words of wisdom, let us get down to the true business of the day.
This week’s lovely lady is Valentina Grishko (Валентина Гришко), age either 30 or 31, and supposedly originally from Ekaterinodar, in Krasnodarskiy Krai (southern Russia – a favourite summer destination for a lot of their holidaymakers). I have, however, seen a report claiming she was born in Paris, France, and that she moved to the FUSA when she was 18 to pursue a modelling career.
Certainly, she has encountered quite a bit of success in that career, and she plainly goes to considerable trouble to make herself look MUCH younger than she actually is. However, if she is not at least 20% plastic, I will eat my shapka. (I’ve got two, actually. Both gifts – one from a Ukrainian, one from a Russian. Which is rather fitting, because “Grishko” is a Ukrainian last name, suggesting this particular Instathot is at least somewhat Ukie.)
Happy Friday and weekend, all. There will hopefully be a podcast coming up tomorrow
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