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Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Alas, poor Boris, we knew you-hey, put that vodka down!

Sinister Dan delivers the best eulogy Boris Yeltsin is ever likely to get.

Lets poor some Stolichnaya on the curb for homies up in heaven.

In the August coup attempt of 1991, Russian hardliners sequestered Mikhail Gorbachev and sought to take over the government. Yeltsin, then the mayor of Moscow, gathered a throng of supporters and declared his defiance to the old order upon the hood of a main battle tank – a tank belonging to the opposition. This unmitigated and uncompromising declaration of support for the new Russia was the final nail in the coffin of the Soviet Union – and the specter has not risen against since.

But clearly, the man had to be fall-off-his-ass drunk to climb up on the other guy’s tank.

Uncle Boris got drunk and groped at the glasnosts of his female staff. Yeltsin got drunk and danced on stage like a methamphetamine-fueled monkey during folk concerts and Yeltsin even got so wasted that he could not leave his plane during a state visit with the Irish Prime Minister.

You need to be exponentially more hooched-up than the worst day of Orson Welles in order to be too drunk to meet the Irish.

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