Its just a game. You grab this, I grab that, you scream bloody murder, freeze a few bank accounts, refuse a few visas, while I veto you left, right and center and accuse you of being hegemonistic and I go in anyway. We both wait for the dust to settle and soon we are back in business. You have what you always wanted – Iraqi oil and I have mine, Crimean gas. Soon you will be visiting me with Michelle and we’ll go fishing, shirtless, you and I. We’ll laugh and joke, and I’ll slip you a few krasivaya devushkas to have fun with, while Michelle goes shopping at the GUM and all shall be well with the world, (though, frankly, I think you might be a bit of an embarrassment, shirtless).
Its when you get in my face that we have a problem. Like now. In Crimea. This is my town.
That’s what Putin must want to say to Obama.
The rest of the post is here…..