I'm married to Putin

The recognition of Valeria Novodvorskaya

I get up in the morning, and suddenly it comes to me: after all, I have been married to Putin for 9 years, and what is happening between us is a classic Russian family life. He does not bring me a salary, but I do not cook lunch and do not wash his linen. We live like Steve Oblonsky with Dolly, do not greet, do not talk. And the house is common: 1/8 part of the world. Or darkness. When I saw him for the first time on the screen in 1999, he somehow looked at me badly, mysteriously, and I realized that he put his eyes on me.

I was not even going to marry him at all. I was waiting for the prince of overseas or at least Borya Nemtsov. But you know how this is customary in Rus': first, "Mother, mother, what is dusty in the field?" Well, mother’s teeth and speaks: they say, the horses played out. And then: "Mother, mother, they take off the image, mother, mother, bless me." And as usual: “The child is sweet, the Lord with you ...” I, of course, did not say “yes”, I did not go to the altar at all, that is, to the elections, to the electoral urn. But they didn’t even ask me. We were not crowned in the church ... We were sung and marked by the aggressive-auditory majority. And the member of the United Russia became the Shaffers. And instead of Mendelssohn, in the Palace of Marriage, the Soviet anthem played us ... It turned out worse than in a joke: Putin did not have dinner, but he dances me. The Chechen war became our first marriage night. So since then we live: I can’t stand him, but he is me. I can kill all the dishes as a sign that I want a divorce, and he will not pay attention.

I, like every Russian woman, finding a relief in complaining about a bad husband. I go to radio stations, on rallies, according to the editorial office and complain. Like, my husband is resigned or immediately in Nuremberg, and I will go for Kasyanov or Nemtsov. I already complained to Bud, and Obama and the European Union. “I don’t want to,” I tell them all, “live with Putin. Dilute us. " And they sign agreements with Putin. What are they to my female tears? And I am not the only one, my husband has another 300 wives and 700 concubines, and all the democrats. And we cry together and sob, but no matter how voted, Putin remains with us. And others cannot understand what Putin is not to my liking. He does not drink vodka, does not smoke. Without harmful, that is, habits. Is playing sports. And so powerful! He will look to the left-the hostages of Nord-Ost, poisoned, fall, look right to the right-the kids in the Beslan school burn. Recently, I almost won the superpower almost, Georgia is called, but American adversaries prevented it. And he is not afraid of anyone, especially God. He judges his enemies, Yukosovites, right on the frontal place. They say that I should be flattering. I answer all of them: “Let it better boog out of Vodir than the blood of Chechen babies, ritually sacrificed to the imperial altar. I would have something quiet, decent, European. ” And we live on.

I would escape with my lover: to the States, to France, to England, where all the good people are running. But then our child, and the whole house - he will get everything. And the divorce is not provided. Only through the Central Election Commission ... Marriages are on ballots.

And then, this husband without bad habits is not a minister. The last one from the house drags his friends. Either Lukashenko, then Chavez, then Kyrgyz patients. And what, again, a woman needs a husband who cannot earn and thinks with friends for three-even if not vodka, but the remnants of colonialism?

I know that he will survive me. He is young, sports, and I am old, sick. And it is terribly done: our wretched child, which the nanny still dropped the head in the maternity hospital, with children's cerebral paralysis and delay in mental development, by the name of Russia, he will get, and there will be no one to even regret the orphan ...