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7/13/2025, 8:41:22 PM
So, here's the story about the American guy from Miami. Why did he end up in Luhansk? He met a "mysterious Russian" on a gay dating site. Unlike your average Russian gay, this one spoke English and convinced him to come visit.
The American flew to Moscow, then Rostov, and finally to Luhansk. He and his “mysterious Russian™” had a brief romance — around two months. It was fall 2014, not the calmest time. He kept in touch with his aunt in Miami: “All good, alive and well.”
Then he suddenly disappeared. The aunt got worried and contacted some local authorities in Miami: “My gay nephew is missing. Not that I’m devastated — he’s a moron — but if he’s dead, we’d like to split his cereal coupons and open the piggy bank.”
Around that time, the U.S. ambassador came to our newsroom for Journalist’s Day, thanking us for defending democracy™. Someone introduced me: “This is our editor, Zhenya Spirin. He used to work in the Luhansk morgue.”
The ambassador got curious, we had a friendly chat about visas, chips, and Pepsi. A week later, she called and asked if I could help track a missing American. I still had contacts in the Luhansk morgue, so I called a few friends — just to check.
Turns out, they had seen someone matching the description. The “mysterious Russian™” had been caught in a homosexual act — which, among separatists, was considered treason. Especially with an American. So he dumped the guy fast.
The American took it badly, got drunk, and ended up in a local bar called “Miami.” A vodka-beer combo, a fight, a punch — he fell and smashed his head on the curb.
They buried him in Rostov. The aunt, while glad to get his coupons and already having broken the piggy bank, wasn’t willing to pay to bring the body back to the States.
That’s how it went.
https://x.com/don_spiridon/status/1944000762666762742
The American flew to Moscow, then Rostov, and finally to Luhansk. He and his “mysterious Russian™” had a brief romance — around two months. It was fall 2014, not the calmest time. He kept in touch with his aunt in Miami: “All good, alive and well.”
Then he suddenly disappeared. The aunt got worried and contacted some local authorities in Miami: “My gay nephew is missing. Not that I’m devastated — he’s a moron — but if he’s dead, we’d like to split his cereal coupons and open the piggy bank.”
Around that time, the U.S. ambassador came to our newsroom for Journalist’s Day, thanking us for defending democracy™. Someone introduced me: “This is our editor, Zhenya Spirin. He used to work in the Luhansk morgue.”
The ambassador got curious, we had a friendly chat about visas, chips, and Pepsi. A week later, she called and asked if I could help track a missing American. I still had contacts in the Luhansk morgue, so I called a few friends — just to check.
Turns out, they had seen someone matching the description. The “mysterious Russian™” had been caught in a homosexual act — which, among separatists, was considered treason. Especially with an American. So he dumped the guy fast.
The American took it badly, got drunk, and ended up in a local bar called “Miami.” A vodka-beer combo, a fight, a punch — he fell and smashed his head on the curb.
They buried him in Rostov. The aunt, while glad to get his coupons and already having broken the piggy bank, wasn’t willing to pay to bring the body back to the States.
That’s how it went.
https://x.com/don_spiridon/status/1944000762666762742
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