Britain. Not enough respect I get from you. You want the gas, this winter? You want cosy and warm-warm? This is what I get from you.
Me on a horse on a coin
You make a 50p for Brexit? You make a 50p for Vlad. Vlad on a rearing stallion, shirt off, abs sculpted, flowing mane of hair. On the other side the Queen with half-smile of repressed eroticism, you got me? I have my sculptor call you. Nice boy but he costs.
Two women a month
Your country you have the ladies, you know? And not 18-already-done-porn like Russians. Send me two a month of your best: your Florence Pughs, your Helen Mirrens, your Jesy Nelsons. They will not regret it except no other man compare, so ruined.
Trip to Salisbury Cathedral
I hear it’s nice. Close associates tell me this.
Me on a horse on the BBC
Those BBC bits between the programmes? Nothing at moment. A waste. Instead Vlad on a horse riding through grasslands, leaping rivers, shooting bear. We have the footage already. Not CGI bullshit, real thing. Verifiable. It will inspire your men.
A knighthood and castle and that shit
I have castles, what? Of course I have castles. I am Putin. But don’t have an English castle or a Scottish castle so give those, and a baronetcy and seat in the Lords and knighthood and all the shit. And front row at next Royal wedding. Don’t bother me they all married. They can divorce.
Our 13 days back
In 1918 Soviets switch calendars from Julian to Gregorian and lose 13 days. I want those days back. Don’t care how you do it, not my problem, but mother Russia gets an extra 13 days this year to redress injustice. I spend them on yacht.
Me on a horse outside Buckingham Palace
In Traflagar Square, at gates of Buckingham Palace, just by Westminster, we have a statue of Vlad on rearing stallion. Not vulgar, maybe 50 metres high and light up so can be seen at night. Vlad very popular in Britain, so everyone will like a lot. You want gas? Get it done.
