Sexy Russian Spy Anna Chapman Gots Nothin' on the Matt-Man: Part два

As I told you yesterday, from 1968 until 1989, much like Anna Chapman, I was a Russian spy.

I surreptitiously entered the States at the age of three, and without their knowledge, became the youngest of nine to an All-American family.

Though far from Mother Russia, my training from KGB agent, “Squalor” continued via a super hi-tech Etch-a-Sketch that “magically” appeared under the tree with my name on it, Christmas morning 1968.

As I continued to receive instructions through my Etch-a-Sketch, I became more convincing as an American child, however...

There were those who thought I was, "not quite right”.

Here’s an example…

In 1972, I was in second grade and the world was fixated on the Olympic Summer Games being held in Munich.

Americans everywhere were ranting and reviling about how the USA got cheated out of gold in Men’s Basketball by the Soviets.

I was watching as well, but you know what I continually ranted and raved about?

I raved about how fucking hot Olga Korbut was.

Yes, even at the tender age of eight, I wanted to drink as much as I could of that gap-toothed, uber-sexy, White Russian gymnast.

But, while there were a few perplexed by that, and by my incredibly detailed doodles of Leonid Brezhnev, most people just thought that I was…peculiar.

Through 1973 and 1974, I immersed myself deeper into the American culture.

I had friends, played baseball, and got my first real girlfriend. I was one smooth son-of-a-bitchski.

I was good at what I did and no one was the wiser as to my true identity. I was just another typical American kid in Bagwine, Ohio…

Albeit, one who still, at the age of nine, carried an Etch-a-Sketch around with him everywhere he went.

From the time I got it on that fateful Christmas morn of 1968, until August 14, 1974, I was receiving bland secret training and indoctrination through it, however...

On August 15, 1974, through the Etch-a-Sketch, I received my mission instructions…

My mission, if I managed to successfully complete it, would forever change the world.

I did, and it did, and the Code Name for my mission was…

Well…I’ll pick up from this point on Friday.

Until then…

I’m off today, shaving my head, and catching up with you fine folks because my comments seem to be working now.

Thank God Blogger finally fixed the problem…It was freaking me out.

Na zdorovia!!

Sexy Russian Spy Anna Chapman Gots Nothin' on the Matt-Man

Most of you have heard about the bust of alleged Russian spy, Anna Chapman.

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?

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...

“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!!

*****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.