Enough hating — here’s what we don’t need

Strap on your AK-47, O mighty warrior. Take off your shirt so you look like a big tough macho man, hop onto your white horse and start riding south.

Keep going until you come upon a caravan of drunken misfits that has been stalled on the road to Kyiv. If you can find them.

Now, take another good swig of that vodka, Mr. Pootin. Point your troops in the direction you think they ought to go, let out a good ol’ Cossack yell and charge forth — to get your head blown off for the

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