Last night I had the strangest dream.
I dreamt I had broken my ankle falling off my horse, and the Donald the Trump came to rescue me. He was wearing a tall top hat with colours of the American flag, and some weird S&M bondage full-body leather corset that barely covered his fake moobs. He handed me the handle of his whip – strong, black, rugged as cowboy’s arse – and I grabbed it with both hands. We then headed back home, on my horse, where he gave me a much needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
It was a strange and beautiful dream. I will ask Dr Chapman what it means.
Last night was eventful, but today was most exciting day. Most exciting for myself, for Mother Russia, and for the whole wide world. I had been waiting for this day for so long, I could not contain my excitement any more. I called Dimitri as soon as I woke up, I said “Dimitri, do you what day it is today, you brain-dead gypsy turd?” but I didn’t wait for his answer, and just slammed the phone down. He is a useless gypsy fart in a jar.
But I didn’t worry about Dimitri, today was just too important. I felt like an orphan at Christmas about to open his very first AK-47.
Today, dear diary, was the day that Joseph was delivered.
Joseph is my pet bear. It is a male Gobi bear. There are maybe 15 left in the world, and they are bloody hard to find. But finally, it was delivered today. He is big and beautiful and slightly yellow and he smells of rotten kefir. I LOVE him. I have bought him a golden lead, to take him for walks on the Red Square, and a big chewy elongated purple toy I found in Dimitri’s bedroom which vibrates when you chew on it. It is very nifty.
Joseph was a bit shy at first. He didn’t like meeting all the foreign dignitaries. He sniffed Merkel for a solid 10 minutes, but I think she secretly liked it. Poor Francois Holland wasn’t so lucky. Joseph mistook him for a rodent, a mistake we’ve all made, and chewed his left arm off. Francois was screaming like a little girl, but neither Joseph nor I was very impressed. There was blood all over the carpet. Francois promised he would pay for it, but he is a two-faced one-armed weasel. Still, it made for an amusing boomerang post on Instagram. Arm on. Arm off! Arm on. Arm off!
Even Dimitri laughed, so I slapped him.
Tomorrow, I want to inspect the troops riding on Joseph. They will be most impressed. I will buy a bear saddle and some spurs, wear my cowboy hat and cowboy boots, and parade in front of them. Maybe I will sing a song.
It is bed time now, and Joseph is already fast asleep on my bed.
He is the big spoon.
Good night diary,
Vlad and Joseph