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SOCHI, Russia (WNB) - Scooter Van Neuter reporting from the 2014 Winter Olympics.
This weekend was one I'll never forget, probably because I can hardly remember it.
The reason, of course, is because of the fact that Russian civil engineers have somehow perfected the art of transforming crystal clear mountain snow runoff into the urine-colored mucus that flows from every faucet in Sochi. With imported bottled water going for $14.75 USD, and a bottle of vodka going for 18 cents, even brushing one's teeth becomes a party.
I woke up shortly after noon on Saturday to find unidentified bugs had deforested my crotch and used the hair to construct a fairly elaborate dwelling on the right side of my face. Fortunately, I had enough vodka left to wash it off, and made a mental note to enclose my head in a plastic bag while sleeping to prevent this from happening again.
Because of my religion (Baconism) I don't work on Saturdays or Sundays, so going to the Oympic competitions was out of the question. I decided to spend the weekend doing what I do best - hard-hitting investigative journalism. A major US publication had offered me $$$ for a story on the plight of Russian gays, so this was my focus.
After getting another case of vodka, I took a refreshing sponge bath, and in the spirit of "green" recycling, drank it to hydrate. Before I left I looked up the Russian word for "homosexual" to use in finding some gays to interview, then headed downtown to find some.
Within two minutes of arriving on a busy street corner, I was unexpectedly and brutally attacked by Russian police. The sign I was holding, Стремясь отнял у (Seeking gay man), was violently ripped out of my hands and despite my high-pitched squeals, I was thrown into a van and transported to a nearby jail.
Fortunately, jail turned out to be not so bad - it was far nicer than my hotel room, and had more gay guys than a Pelosi fundraiser. I found one who spoke a little English, and attempted to ask him questions for my story while simultaneously fending off 15 other crazed pole smokers who were pawing at me. I was thankfully released into the custody of a media liaison just in time, and went back to my hotel and wrote "Rump Riders Rub Russians Raw" - probably one of my best pieces.
Unlike the United States now, Russia supports treatment to turn gays normal, and I spent Sunday drinking vodka and being treated by two "therapists" sent to my room by local government authorities. My thanks to Varushka and Bronislava for their treatment (and the (so far) untreatable STD) - I don't feel even slightly fruity :)
I'm starting to really like this place.
Tomorrow: Olympics.
Seeking gays in Sochi
