Tovariches: I met Obamavich at Normandy, today. I went for the advantage immediately but he was too busy chewing gum and trying to look nonchalant to prepare a counter-measure. I shook hands the old KGB way, pressing my top thumb joint hard into the bone behind his top thumb joint. His face took on a gray tint as he struggled to work his hand free. "Bow before me, Obamavich," I hissed, "or I will press even harder." The wuss nodded with a strange little half-bob." Mother Russia wins again! Lack of space pace and my Cossack modesty preclude me from writing more. Meanwhile, farewell, my loyal comrades: До свидания!