By Vladmir Putin
I, Vladimir Putin, am Time’s Man of The Year!
Rightly so, as it has been quite a year for me. From impregnating women for the benefit of Russia’s national birthrate to photographing my powerful chest and perfectly shaped nipples in order to inspire our homeland with a sense of pride in their leader, I have done it all.
I am a little embarrassed by the competition. To become Man of the Year, I beat out JK Rowling, who is not a man. And I beat out Al Gore, who is also not a man. I would much rather have lost the award than win against such weaklings. I would rather have competed against members of the Ultimate Fighting Championship, Kung-Fu endowed Shaolin Monks, and the half beast/half men that roams the ice-mountains in Mongolia. I suppose I’ll have my chance to defeat those competitors next month when I enter the Best of the Best Street Fighting championships in Thailand.
Being Time’s Man of The Year is a nice vindication, though. Time has told me that my methods are working! The award tells me they approve of my sending nuclear materials to Iran. I will keep doing this.
Time Magazine has endorsed me! Time wants me to be an emperor! After all, who is more manly than I? (Note that this question is rhetorical, and if you actually have an answer you will be poisoned.)
Thank you, Time. Thank you for the award and for confirming that you love me, my politics and my dangerously sexy nipples.
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