Contrary to false rumors spread by that other website, I wasn't machine-gunned by the Whites in the Ural River in 1919. I swam down the river, walked across the frozen Arctic, and settled in Oklahoma. Then I picked up a guitar and tried to lead the Revolution in America by writing Communist songs, such as "This Land Is Your Land." In 1951 I convinced people that I'd died of Huntington's disease but actually hooked up with Petka and we drove my motorcycle around South America. We went to Mexico and I bought a cabin cruiser. I wanted to name it Anka and do a little fishing in the Gulf, but Petka insisted on naming the boat after his grandmother. Well, you know how well Petka spells so he painted Granma on the side. Then the next thing you know we were drunk on the boat and Petka told me that the Whites were in Cuba! It was a difficult fight, especially because Anka was Foreign Minister (later Prime Minister) of Israel and Cuban women are no good at cleaning and polishing machine guns. One thing led to another, I grew a beard, and now I'm enjoying my retirement, at age 121, writing about the beautiful national parks of Cuba.--(WT-en) Chapayev 20:33, 1 July 2008 (EDT)
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