Dear Diary: I have been stressed out by Putin making me look ineffectual and indecisive. This morning I decided it had gone too far and it was time for me to reassert myself. I took up my Power Position: iPresidentophone in one hand, one foot on the Resolute Desk. I entered my passcode and selected
Vladimir Putin from the contact list. "
Da.." came a distant voice. "Obamavich?...have you any idea what time it is here?" "No," I said. "And I didn't call to find out the time in Sevastopol. What I am calling about is your imminent annexation of Crimea. It cannot go ahead without severe economic consequences from the European Union and the USA.
"Like what, Obamavich?"
"Well, we...we... we will stop buying ... Russian caviar."
"Boo hoo," Obamavich. "That will only allow our sturgeon population to have time recover and restore itself. That all you got, big boy?"
I heard a woman's voice in the background. "Vladimir...wherefore art thou, Vladimir? Likely it was Dame Downton Maggie, his actress girlfriend from the Royal Shakespeare Company. "Goodnight Obamavich," said Putin. "I have more important things to attend to." There followed a satisfied female sigh. Enraged, I disconnected.
