She allegedly immersed herself in America and American culture while spying for the Russians. Well, let me tell ya…
That red-headed Roo-ski gots nothin’ on the Matt-Man. I’ve kept a secret from you guys for years, and it’s time to come clean.For years, I have been living a lie. From 1968 until early 1989, I worked for the KGB and the Soviet Machine of International Menace.
It’s true.
You know me as the loveable, affable, Matt-Man, but my real name is Mattislav Cunnilickho.
I was born on the outskirts of Leningrad on February 7, 1965 to my parents, Svetlana and Hank Cunnilickho…a married couple who ran a business that sold beet pies and refurbished dirt.
When I was not quite three, I inadvertently constructed an explosive device made from beet juice, old potato peels, and Dad’s half empty bottle of vodka.
In addition to the resulting explosion leveling much of the Proletariat Arms apartment complex, 28 people were killed including my mom and dad.
Although saddened, there was a state supplied safety net to catch me.
As news of my advanced destructive skills and my impending orphan-hood spread, in order to fully train the prodigy that was me to be a useful tool for the Soviet plan for world domination, the KGB sent this man…
I don’t remember too much about him. I do remember he smelled like onions and that I was to refer to him only by his KGB code name: Squalor.Over six weeks, he involved me in a crash course in how to act like a three year old American boy.
After Squalor’s work was complete, I was secretly shipped to Ohio and placed with my “new family.”
The KGB placed me with the Mahoney family in Bagwine, Ohio because they figured that since Jack and Mary Anne already had eight kids, they wouldn’t really notice a ninth. The plan worked.
I showed up at suppertime on August 15, 1968. I sat down with the other eight kids and just like them, I was given a plate of dry meatloaf and creamed peas.
No one said a word.
My new Dad was grumpy from work and never looked up from his plate. My new Mom was too tired to notice, and the other eight kids?
The KGB placed me with the Mahoney family in Bagwine, Ohio because they figured that since Jack and Mary Anne already had eight kids, they wouldn’t really notice a ninth. The plan worked.
I showed up at suppertime on August 15, 1968. I sat down with the other eight kids and just like them, I was given a plate of dry meatloaf and creamed peas.
No one said a word.
My new Dad was grumpy from work and never looked up from his plate. My new Mom was too tired to notice, and the other eight kids?
They were happy that with another mouth at the table, there was less meatloaf and fewer creamed peas for them to eat.
I was in baby, and then Dad looked up and said, “When the hell did that one show up? What‘s your name boy?”
In my still fairly thick Russian accent I replied, “Matt, Daddy.”
He retorted, “Matt? Hell you sound like a Russian SOB. Mary Anne when did this one come along?”
And in a twist of fate that saved my cover, my mom said...
I was in baby, and then Dad looked up and said, “When the hell did that one show up? What‘s your name boy?”
In my still fairly thick Russian accent I replied, “Matt, Daddy.”
He retorted, “Matt? Hell you sound like a Russian SOB. Mary Anne when did this one come along?”
And in a twist of fate that saved my cover, my mom said...
“Oh Jack, he must have been conceived when we had too much Braumeister while watching Fiddler on the Roof. Eat your creamed peas, honey.”
I was in for good, and my mission for the next 21 years was off to a good start. But…
My dangerous and varied foray into international intrigue will have to wait until Wednesday.
One more long day and then off tomorrow. I’ll report back then.
Cheers!!
I was in for good, and my mission for the next 21 years was off to a good start. But…
My dangerous and varied foray into international intrigue will have to wait until Wednesday.
One more long day and then off tomorrow. I’ll report back then.
Cheers!!
*****My comments that I leave in response to you guys are not showing up. Is it eveyone or does Blogger have a conspiracy against me? I can see none of yours either.
17 comments:
Apparently you've been hiding a little bit better than the bunch that just got caught. Of course posting about it will ....... won't make much difference at all.
This doesn't explain your affection for WR though.
That Sqaulor dude is scary! Freaky scary.
Mattislav Cunnilickho ... *shakes head*
Thank goodness it was meatloaf and creamed peas for dinner that night and not loosemeat and lima beans or you'd have never been allowed to stay at the table!
My comments that I leave on here have not been showing up. This a test.
Testing Testing
This was the greatest post I’ve seen in a long time Matty. You are back to your true form and I love it! I’m just happy when you are using your imagination and writing,
That one spy allegedly was a stay at home dad who the neighbors thought was ‘quite lazy.’ I’ve never wanted to be a spy more. Considering my lifetime aversion to work, maybe I already am one!
Hey, it finally worked!
That they were happy to see you so there were less creamed peas and dry meatloaf to eat made me laugh.
I almost double posted last night. But then I thought, "Oh wait, this is blogger!" I may ask for a refund though.
Hope the comment thing works itself out... not to be able to share the back and forth fuck-wittery would be a travesty of epic proportions! To be deprived of the wisdom and wit of the Matt-Man is too terrible to contemplate. Makes me shudder right down to my cutest baby toe. Course, lots of things make me shudder right down to my cutest baby toe, not the least of which is the mere thought of getting just a little taste of all that is Matty.
Only a brilliant Russian spy would ignore the trendiness of Vodka and drink cheap beer and WIR. Absolutely brilliant and tremendous discipline shown there Mattski.
Hi All...Evidently I am back in action. I'll catch up with all y'all soonly. Thanks for nothin', Blogger!! Cheers!!
Just Checking on Blogger
...beet pies and refurbished dirt HA ha ha!
Lu'
That was great!!! :)....bestsexymodel
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