Author: Dane Lowell
Submitted by: redadmin

Chapt. 118 – 1317 words
Columns :: Andrei arrives for a “bite”; Kremlin enlists rock stars

MOSCOW, March 31, 2005 – Comments:   Ratings:

Andrei arrives
And puts the bite on me for 5 grand
And I put the bite on Sergei’s cock,
Who’s afraid he’s turning queer
Kremlin woos rock stars against revolution



MOSCOW, March 31, 2005 – Andrei arrived this morning. He woke me out of a deep sleep a little after 6 a.m. When Denis came to bed about 4 a.m., Sergei was sawing logs, and Denis and I immediately plunged into sex, so I missed an hour’s sleep. Either he loves me or he loves sex, I’m not sure which. Maybe a little of both. Either way is okay with me.

I sucked Sergei’s cock last night for the first time in two months. Just after I went to bed he came bounding into the bedroom grinning from ear to ear, and started taking off his trousers. “I told Denis to stay in the kitchen because I wanted to talk to you.”

His pretty little naked body was as pretty as ever, but either his dick has shrunk or Denis’s is a lot bigger than I had realized. I suppose the only logical conclusion is the latter. I recall actually choking a couple of times in the past on Sergei’s because it was so big; but it seemed really rather small last night. I suppose I’ll verify one way or the other when Andrei – whose cock is almost exactly the same size as Sergei’s -- and I get down to business, maybe tonight.

Sergei has been jerking off by himself while his herpes lesions have been active. He said last night that he’s worried that maybe he’s turning queer. “When I was jerking off, I would think about women and try to come, but I couldn’t. Then I’d start thinking about a 16- or 17-year-old boy, and I’d shoot off.”

I laughed. “That’s great!.”

“But I’m worried,” he added. “I don’t want to be gay. I want to get married and have children.”

Join the club.

Today after Andrei arrived, Sergei was talking about it again: “Either I’ll fuck women or, if I can’t fuck women, I’ll only have sex with you,” he said. “I won’t have sex with other guys,” he promised. “I love you.”

He really loved having his dick sucked last night, and we have been much closer in the hours since.


I asked Andrei if he had a girlfriend in Svetlograd. “No,” he said. “I did have, but she wanted to get married. I don’t ever want to get married. I want to live with you.”

And the third of the troika is of course little brother Zhorik. We’ve been in almost constant SMS contact since he left for St. Peterburg. The air between here and the “Venice of the North” has been almost constantly charged with “Kiss you-love you-miss-you”s. Yesterday he had a meeting with his lawyer and gave him the 0; he has another meeting this afternoon, and he’ll let me know what happens.


The bite on bucksi from Andrei that I’ve been expecting came this afternoon. With the money he got from selling the VW, he bought an eight-ton truck; and he and his dad, Valentine, are in business together hauling produce. They’re doing okay, he says, and making a small profit; “but if we had another truck, we’d make a big profit” in the upcoming summer months.

He wants to borrow 00, will give me a promissory note with Valentine’s apartment as collateral. The big question is, do I have 00 after giving 0 to Zhorik and sending 00 to Bruce? I had about 00 in the Raiffeisen account, took out almost 0 for Zhorik and transferred 0 to Bruce, which would leave just about 00. I’ll have about 00 coming from School #69 and the Institute of Diplomacy next week, and 0 from my pension the following week, plus a couple hundred bucks from Golf magazine and the usual several hundred from private students in between, so it should be there.

Andrei is very excited about his new “business,” and he and his father are both very hardworking and single-minded people, so I have no doubt that they will be successful. I’m actually quite proud of him. He’s a serious and dedicated little entrepreneur. He’s also doing it partially for me, so that I won’t have to work when I move there. It’s all really quite exciting.

The only thing is that they’re working out of Svetlograd, their hometown of 50,000, instead of Stavropol, a mini-metropolis of 750,000. He asked if I would live in Svetlograd. “I’d be bored,” I told him. But he promised to introduce me to lots of friends and gays so we could have a fun social life, etc.

“Honey,” I replied, “I’ll live anywhere, as long as you’re there.”

Just before Andrei put his bite on, Igor, who spent the night here last night, put in his bid. He borrowed 0 from his friend Sergei, who is asking for it back. Could he borrow it from me?

And my “Stream” Internet bill is due today -- for two months. Man, I can’t keep any money in my pocket! I took in 0 yesterday and another this morning, and it’s already two-thirds gone!


The Kremlin is trying to defuse potential velvet revolutions by enlisting rock stars just in case, as evidenced by a recent secret meeting between the deputy chief of the Putin administration and a handful of Russia’s most popular ear busters.

The tete-a-tete came to light only when the newspaper Gazeta scorned the clumsy effort on its web site Gazeta.ru.

It would seem that the real significance lies in the seriousness with which the Kremlin is beginning to take the notion of a popular uprising after “rose,” “orange,” and a few other stormy revolution toppled dictatorial regimes in Georgia, Ukraine, and now Kyrgyzstan.

Neither the Kremlin nor the rock stars will comment.

You get the impression that Putin’s sphincter muscle is working overtime.

The meeting was called, according to the upcoming-events weekly Afisha, to ensure that a situation like that which occurred in Kiev, where Ukrainian rock stars supported the revolution and performed in the center of the capital during the Orange Revolution, would not be repeated in Moscow.

“If you were going to put the meeting in an American rock and roll perspective,” writes the Moscow Times, “a fair parallel would be something like Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, and the Mamas and the Papas meeting Pres. Richard Nixon’s chief of staff at the height of American students’ protests over the war in Vietnam.”

But that seems a bit of an exaggeration.

Granted, invited were some of the most popular singers on the Russian rock scene, but Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, and the Mamas and the Papas they weren’t. Being the most popular here only means being among the richest and therefore the most favored by the Kremlin and the least likely to throw your weight behind a protest or uprising in any case.

And therein lies the disdainful skepticism of many observers.

“They’re not rock, it’s show business,” noted Alexander Tarasov, a sociologist and chronicler of Russian underground music. He said that all of the participants had long ago lost credence with young dissidents.

Rock stars who really are anti-establishment aren’t permitted to be visible anyway, despite their popularity, Tarasov stressed. “No protest songs will ever get played on radio or television here,” he said.

Sounds just like America in the wake of the Iraq invasion.

Even in Kiev, many of the rock stars who performed in Independence Square simply switched sides from the Kuchma-sponsored authoritarian candidate “because the money was better” with the rebel opposition, he said.

A respected journalist writing on the Gazeta web site posed the question:

“Does (the Kremlin) really think the revolution will start because musicians will stir up the crowd? I think the revolution will start because of inequality.”

As a side note chuckle, the meeting, originally scheduled for the Kremlin, had to be switched to a downtown hotel because some of the stars invited couldn’t make it through Kremlin security.

According to my once-and-future-dissident friend Andrei S., Putin’s sphincter has good reason to be working overtime; and it could affect my future:


“As for your plans to move to Stavropol,” Sasha warned in a recent e-mail, “I'm afraid it might be too much of an adventure, bearing in mind that in the coming year, year and a half at most, Russia is [going] to plunge into serious turmoil, or Revolution, call it what you like. This time it's not solely my or CIA's prophecies; all politicians with any brains left are openly talking about this –

“In other words, if I were in your place I'd much rather stay put, in your old cozy courtyard under the protection of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin's bust, and within 10-minutes’ stroll to Uncle Sam's embassy, just in case….”

So I have a choice to make: Do I stay in Moscow and risk starvation in post-energy peak, or do I move to Stavropol and risk being dismembered in a mindless revolution? Or do I go back to the States for a first-hand view of the collapse of the American Empire?

Whatever I decide, I’ll have a ring-side seat – to something.