We go to a Russian clinic, rather than to an expat one such as the ‘EMC’ (European Medical Centre) . We do this out of principal and the EMC charge one hundred and fifty euro just for a doctors consultation. If you are a rich expat or have your medical insurance paid for directly, then that’s fine go there and make the owners even richer than they are now. I personally refuse to and would only go there in an absolute emergency. I think most expats that go there, including the clinics Russian patients, must have ‘idiot’ or ‘rich’ tattooed across their foreheads, although to be fair to them they don’t have much choice, its that or a state hospital. That clinic is literally printing its own money. If it only saw 20 patients a day it would make 3,000 euro a day times 5 days a week equals 15,000 euro a week, times 4 weeks per month equals 60,000 euro a month. I am sure they see more than 20 patients a day and this excludes tests etc. This translates as 51,000 GBP a month or 84,000 USD a month for the clinic, less staff wages. This is one clinic in Moscow, there are other private clinics charging similar prices. No one questions it, no one complains. The insurance pays it for some. Life goes on. Sickness is big money and big business, the world over.

At the clinic we go to, its a lot cheaper, clean modern and well run. On arrival you have to take off your coat, leaving it with a coat woman, who issues you with a numbered plastic hook token for when you collect your coat. Push chairs have to be left at the door and two bored fat looking security guards eye you with great suspicion. You have to then register and go to the required floor and wait. Its a bit hap hazard, people sit on chairs against the walls, like runners on starting blocks at the start of a race, waiting for the starter gun to go off. People guard their place with killer territorial instinct, waiting for the doctors door to open and to let them in. I went there today with my kid on the metro, to see a general doctor for a bad cold. Getting there on the metro, negotiating steps and escalators is a test in itself.You have to go up the escalator backwards, holding the push chair facing down. Russian metro escalators are steep stairs that rise up or down into a bottomless airless abyss. Hold on tight to the chair as its rather dangerous.

My point of writing about a doctors visit, is mainly to air my suspicion on the medication that the doctors give out. In my own country, you almost have to beg to get any form of prescription drug, while here, they hand them out freely. You leave the doctors and then leave the pharmacy, with packets of pills and syrups. I left today, with four boxes of tablets and one syrup for my cold. One box was antibiotics, which I am sure was all I needed and maybe the syrup for my cough. I noticed that the syrup the doctor gave me, is exactly the same one as they always give my son when he has a cough. Leaving the doctors here with vast quantities of pills and syrups is not unlike Slovakia, there doctors prescribe with enormous generosity like in Moscow. I have a theory that doctors get kick back, commission payments from the drug suppliers. I cannot prove this theory or provide any data but its just my feeling.

Having said all of this, in my own opinion, I feel treatment here is far better than back home in my own country. You get what you need including tests, x-rays, etc with minimum wait or aggro. The only down side is you must pay. We have insurance, but have to send of claim forms to get paid back, we often wait many months to get some or all of our money from the insurance company.


Last week, I found myself sitting in a pre-revolution palace in Moscow, sipping Earl Gray tea, talking to Anna. This is my second attempt at finding lucrative work teaching the rich in Moscow. As I sit at the table next to pretty and perfect Anna, aged nine, I think to myself what the hell am I doing here? Seven years ago I was in a top management job in London, earning a good wage but miserable. Here I am now in Moscow Russia earning nothing and still miserable! Anna’s mother watches us closely and unsmiling from the kitchen as I attempt to explain the ‘seasons’ in English to Anna. She speaks little English. Her mother brings her some soup and we continue our efforts. I lose heart with the seasons and move onto drawing pictures of fairies in her drawing book. Anna attends drawing classes three times a week, as well as piano and dance classes. Fairies, she can do well and does have a skill for drawing. She slurps her soup while I slurp my tea, both feeling awkward at this forced marriage of language.

Their flat is opulent by Russian standards, Thick walls, high ceilings, quality hard wooden floors in dark chestnut. An old shell, hiding a modern luxury interior. Her father is a doctor and owner of a successful company in Moscow. Mother does not work. Her mother sits down at the table opposite me to explain what is ‘required’, she explains ‘we are looking for a person to speak with our daughter, meet her at school, go to her extra lessons, be with her’. I say to her ‘so you need me to be a friend or like an uncle to Anna’, she does not get my irony and says ‘you are not her uncle’. Lost in translation I suppose? She goes onto to say ‘we need a person to help her speak English, we don’t need grammar, she does that at school, can you cook?’ I reply yes, although my head is screaming for 43 US dollars an hour, I can juggle and sing ‘Old Man River’ if you like. They want a person from 2pm to 8pm Monday to Friday. The mother explains that Anna would prefer a girl to help her, rather than a man. I think to myself then why the hell did you ask me when you knew I was a man?

We leave the table, I notice large packs of Italian luxury mineral water and a bottle of Dom Perignon in the hallway as we make our way to Anna’s room to play a game and continue our embarrassed one way conversation. Her room is large, with floor to ceiling glass cabinets, inside the cabinets are doll figures and a large dolls house with furniture, lamps that light up and fake food. Her bed is covered in soft teddy bears, she has a desk and designer lamp. We sit on the floor and play a game I don’t understand that involves moving plastic tokens around a board and ghost figures in a castle. Her mother sits on the bed watching me like an eagle, defending her nest. I had explained to the fathers assistant (secretary) who contacted me about the job and who told me her boss was looking a for tutor/nanny/friend/plaything for his daughter, that I was a father and obviously therefore male. She still wanted me to give their daughter a ‘trial’ lesson. We agreed 3 hours at 43 USD or 1,250 rubles per hour.

After one hour, the mother said OK we can finish, feeling annoyed, I explained that we had agreed three hours and that I had booked a baby sitter for my son. She looked at me blankly and agreed to continue. At the end of the painful time the mother disappeared to get me my money putting 2,000 rubles on the table. The payment should have been 3,750 rubles, I felt embarrassed and and had to ask her for more money. Another case of bad communication between husband and wife or wife and husbands ‘assistant’. I put the money in my pocket and left promising myself I would never teach their daughter but knowing in truth that they would not want me or even bother to contact me again. In Russia, if a person or people are not interested in you or in a meeting, they simply cease any further communications. That’s how its done here, no follow up email, no dear John or call to polity reject you.

Personally, I would never employ any man to look after my own child and would also choose a girl or woman, so I agree with Anna’s mother. Having said that, I am a man looking for work here so this fact does not help my job seeking efforts to teach rich kids.

Note: 43 USD = approx 26 GBP at today’s rates. Not a fortune, but at the low end of pay for private teaching.

A man in a woman’s world. The cave man has come of age. I have not written what its like to be a stay at home dad living abroad. This is a bit stupid since this is exactly what I do here in Moscow Russia. Its normally expected that the wife will stay at home with the kids or kid while her husband works long hours in his highly paid expat position in the host country. This is the norm and the general way for expats abroad, its whats expected. However, there is a small group in any capital, in any country where the man is staying at home while his wife works. I have met three such men in Moscow. I am friends with one, an acquaintance with another and the other one left for Tokyo. We are like the rare lesser spotted red baboon, shy and rarely seen out of our habitat.

If you are a wife and stay at home mum abroad, life will generally be easier and you will be more socially accepted than a man. There are many women clubs here and in other countries where mums (moms) can join, meet others mums and generally make friends. Men can join some of these clubs, but the chances are if you are a man in one if these clubs you will be the only one at such a club. This is fine, if you accept is for what it is and don’t mind the invisible estrogen shields that groups of women put up when a man is present within their nest. Metaphorically speaking, they can all sit in the corner knitting, while you stare into your coffee cup munching on a piece of home made carrot cake at one of the many baby groups meetings that are available in Moscow. You will get the opportunity to meet other stay at home parents, most of them mothers at play grounds and you may even see some of them in the street, they travel in pairs and form their own groups within the nest and within the expat pecking order.

I have always been interested in sociology and I studied it at university, so for me I am my own kind of living experiment in my role in Moscow. I am part of a gender role test. Admittedly, I am the only lab participant, short of a few other stray dads, that are floating about in the shadows of the city. The role norm, has been the way since the cave man. The cave man always got the meat and the woman to stayed in the cave grunting a tune, while combing her hair with a reluctant hedgehog. Now, times have changed since many burnt their D-cups and demanded equal rights with the men, from their first bra burning, right up to today. Women, have increasingly become men, while men have increasingly become women. I often think the only thing that makes them different is their physical appearance.

Most women work within married couples, because they have to and they get equal pay. Many young women in my own country, now drink to excess, swear and generally behave like men at a football matches. Men have become under increasing pressure to use cosmetics, to look good and to show their famine side. Many men have become ‘meterosexual‘, (see link) not gay, but spending vast sums of money on their appearance, gelling, waxing, plucking and even having their nails done. In my own opinion, via collective intentional design by many rights groups, feminists and others, roles between the sexes have become very blurred. We see gender roles now as if looking through an old bad pair of broken glasses. This is not to say that roles don’t differ from country to country. In Arabic countries for example, there is certainly no blurring of roles and women are often at home doing what their culture expects of them, being mothers, cooks, cleaners and their husbands bedroom harlots. They don’t really do this under protest, it is just the expected way and was installed into them from when they were little girls. In other countries, like Russia for example, both men and women tend to work, while the woman, the ‘wife’ works full time she does all the childcare and domestic duties, the husband just carries on as usual. The rich mothers employ full or part time nannies to look after darling Sasha or Dimitry while she holds down a well paid job in advertising etc.

If you are a stay at home dad, in a mixed nationality relationship, you can be in a kind of non mans land. You are not part of the wife’s circle of friends and your own nationalities are mostly women. At times, you may as well be raising your kids or kid alone in a wooden hut, in coldest deepest Siberia. I am such a dad here in Moscow. Combine this with not speaking the local language or having the money or time to learn the local language, will result in social isolation, where the wind blows around you and cobwebs form around your very being and personality.

In my opinion, women really want to be women again and to do the roles that they have always done, if finance would allow them to so. Men want to work, come home kick off their shoes and have dinner on the table. Sure, some people reading this will self-combust in anger and suggest this is ‘sexist’ and outrageous, while others may agree with me. I have come to see this as the truth as I have matured, got older, rounder and more world wise. Roles between the sexes have become the bastard child of today.We created this situation and we can uncreat it if we all wanted to.

Economics of survival, forces couples to swap roles and to move abroad in order to survive. This does not make it ‘normal’ but it does make it necessary, as the saying goes, ‘necessity is the mother of invention’, needs must. If you are a stay at home dad, be strong and see it as an experience. Do the best job you can in looking after your kids or kid, ignore any remarks or traditional attitudes to your situation and just do it. The chance to spend the early years with your kids to kids, is a golden opportunity and will give your child a boost and head start in his or her life. Many kids never see either parent, because they both work long hours every day, arriving home late each day. The first two years of a child’s development are critical.

Brush off the cobwebs ignore the cold winds, you have the chance to help your children, do it as I am doing it as an expat abroad. Be a man in a woman’s world. Let her get the meat and you stay in the cave, if only for a few years.

Deidre Dare, (see link) is an American lawyer and who had a very lucrative expat position in Moscow. She was fired from her job for publishing a kiss & tell online blog diary of her sexual adventures (legal case pending). She recently wrote in her agony aunt column in a Moscow publication called ‘Passport‘ (see link) on her thoughts of returning home from Russia and to the US. This agony column seems to be her new career since it all went viral and her expat legal career ended. Her writing made me think, which I think is the sign of a good article, about how I would feel on returning to live in England. If you are an expat you may long to return to your home country or like me, you may dread it.

When I am abroad, I feel English but I feel ‘English’ from a better time in the past, to an England of my youth or to a romanticized view of England seen through rose coloured glasses. When I am in England, I feel like just another face in the crowd. Deidre Dare, suggested that she would not like to return to her country as life would be ‘boring’ back home and although my life here is fairy boring in my SAHD role, I do totally agree with her. Living abroad as an expat, is far more interesting. To experience different climates and cultures, enriches our minds and spirits. It makes us fuller and alive. On our last living breath, we will remember so many adventures good and bad of our travels and experiences. Living away from home has its positives and negatives which are different to every person. I may have different positives and negatives to life abroad than you do, that’s what makes me, me and you, you. If I had to return to my country tomorrow, I would feel horrified and very depressed, while you would be filled with joy.

No country is perfect, we all know this, but England seems to have been slipping further down a path into a dark abyss of no return in recent years. I try not to be openly political but sometimes its impossible not to be when talking about your home country. If you are political you run the risk of being labeled and branded as this or that. You can be labeled as an ‘ist’ when talking about immigration when you are not an ‘ist’. The ‘ists’ cover racist, sexist (racism and sexism). The UK has become so politically correct (PC) that the country seems to be suffocating itself. The ‘Human Rights Act’, seems to be dictating almost everything now, making the country seem like the mad hatters tea party from ‘Alison Wonderland’ in its bizarre legal rulings.  Criminals, in our jails, may get the right to vote while in prison, while Pedophiles (child abusers) may get the right to have their names removed form the ‘sex offenders register’ as it ‘goes against their human rights’ as suggested in a British newspaper recently. As an expat abroad, its important to keep update to date with events in your home country. I believe about 80% of what I read in the papers, depressing as some of it can be, I am addicted to the news. My heart bleeds for England while I watch it sinking.

Immigration, (see link) has gone unchecked (see link) for over a decade and the country is still seen as the land of milk and honey. Benefits have been given out to all who arrive, from cheap or free housing, to unemployment benefits. I do believe in a fair welfare state, (since we pay taxes for such needs), however I dont like like how it is now, I believe there are plans to make the system tougher. The United Kingdoms is a lot better than Russia’s, welfare system but I don’t believe in unchecked immigration or in a welfare system that is so open to abuse, as it is in the UK. Lets just say, I am not ‘left wing’ but nor am I right wing. I was once very left wing when I was a student, when I believed the earth was flat and that fairness could be achieved for all, then I grew up. I threw away my Guardian Newspaper along with my old teddy bear and drank form the glass of reality.  We read about children murdering children, we read about a hooded and a young binge drinking culture, we read about politicians stealing from the tax payer in their expense claims. Perhaps the UK is not so unlike Russia in that respect with its corruption and irregularities within the state system. Some things are universal.

I would not want to return to my country to live in London as the city is over crowded and bursting with people. Some people say they love the ‘multicultural mix’. They say they love the ‘diversity’. In my opinion, diversity is fine when integrated and getting along, however in England, as established research has now shown, first and second generation Muslims and other immigrants, are not integrating and are as are as Trevor Philips suggested “sleepwalking towards segregation”. Often these people foster hate and resentment to the very country that welcomed them or their parents. Its really rather ironic and very sad.

London is OK to visit but not to live. If I had to return to England I would only do so if I could live in the countryside and if I had a lot of money. London is very expensive, not yet as expensive as Moscow but almost. London has become a horrible place to live but a great place to live if you have millions in your bank account like an ‘A list’ celebrity or a lottery winner. Like everywhere nowadays, the UK has become a twenty four seven ‘fuck you’ society, where the individual is king to the detriment of the collective society. The British have a special personality more so in big cities. The British are rather tolerant, reserved, cold and suspicious of others. They carry this attitude abroad as expats. I have tended to avoid my fellow Brits like the plague while living abroad for this very reason, although if you want to meet others, avoidance of these types is not always possible. There are exceptions to these ‘types’ like everything, and I have met some lovely fellow Brits, but I have noticed this trait in many Brits abroad. I can’t explain it or understand it. Its one of those things that’s annoying but you just accept it and get on with it, like a bad cold.

The British are not at all patriotic, I think their national pride has slowly been eroded over the last few decades by crazy political decisions and due to immigration and multiculturalism, the death of traditional religion, the almost total decline in home manufacturing and cultural changes that have ripped out the fabric of British society. The rise of the TV celebrity, reality shows, the popular gutter press, a declining health and education system and EU laws have all added to salt to this gaping raw wound. I can see no way out of this abyss, short of a miracle, although I am trying to find a solution in my own small way by writing about it here.

I love my country based on how I think of it in my imagination and how it used to be. I have no illusions as to how it is now and I certainly don’t tell any non native people who ask me about England what they want to hear, I tell them the truth as I see it. I tell other nationalities, the UK has a wonderful history some great cities, villages and towns and a great traditional cuisine. I tell them to visit the UK with a friend or family, I promote it with a small pinch of reserved pride. The countryside can be beautiful and the further away you get from London, the more friendly the people are and the better life is. I am not looking for the perfect place to live, as I know such a place my not exist, but I know my home country is not the place I want to be. I would like to visit Tokyo but I would not want to live there, if you get my meaning?

I love to return to England for short visits but am always glad to leave, I am not necessarily pleased to get back to my current country, Russia but just pleased to get out and away. Sorry if my opinion is a depressing one but its my opinion and you are very welcome to disagree or agree. The choice is yours and I respect it.

Here are some nice quotes on travel.

Note: We should not fail to recognize the minority of people who are genuine immigrants fleeing and escaping repression and death in their own countries.Where genuine, they should be offered sanctuary and citizenship in any country, not just the UK.

This is our second winter here. Its snowing more this year than last and temperatures go from a warm – 2 to a cold -23 or more. The weather behaves like a woman in a shoe shop, unable to make her mind up. The winter here is refreshing after the oven like temperatures of the summer months, where you are either smoked like a kipper or slowly baked by the intense dry sun. The air is crisper and you can forget the pollution and dirty traffic, the air as it seems to be frozen and chilled.

We live in flat, like millions of others, high up from the street. Our flat looks out on the back of the block, we face the back, not the street and road which is why we chose it. You don’t hear the hum of the traffic so much apart from the Police cars making their annoying farting noises and ‘whoop’, ‘whoops’ to get the driver in front of them out of their way when they are late to get their weekly bribery cash payment.

What get on my nerves in this winter wonderland within the city, is the snow cleaner’s. About three men, with moon shaped faces, probably from Uzbekistan, (See link) scrape away at the snow on the road at the back of our block of flats. They seem to appear like goblins from nowhere, at anytime, on any given day. I think they live under the building in a cave. They spring into life wearing their bright orange and yellow viability jackets at 10.30 pm at night or at 5.00 am on any time. They scrape the ground with wooden snow shovels, clearing the snow, even if the layer of snow on the ground is less than a centimeter thick.  As we lay in bed on a Saturday or Sunday morning we are woken by this sound of scraping, it sounds like nails on a blackboard to my ears. We can’t shut the windows as the heating cannot be turned off in the flat (a subject I have complained about before). We have to stuff ear plugs into our ears to try to sleep. I suppose the 24 hour culture, where rest is not obligatory on weekends is not the normality nowadays. When I was a kid, everything was shut on Sundays and no one worked. Days now long gone, except in quite back water nowhere villages.

I don’t know who pays these men or how much they earn? But snow clearing is their daily life. In the summer, you see the same men outside, although in the summer they sweep rather than shovel snow. As soon as a single leaf hits the floor, its swept up in seconds. They appear with witches brooms, to sweep the leaves or any grain of dirt that falls on the ground. I feel pity for them, since I doubt they earn very much money and they are long way from their homeland, but they annoy the shit out of me. I wish I could send them away as they disturb our sleep but I say nothing as it would achieve nothing and it would be cruel.

I expect the snow will be gone in a few months and spring will arrive in a day, the next day it will be full blown summer and we will cook and I will long for the snow again and to hear the sound scraping. Seasons here change in the blink of an eye. Peace and clean air have never been so important to me since we moved to Moscow. They are like an unreachable dream and a fantasy way of living, where the air is fresh and clean and you can only hear the birds singing in the trees as you lay comfortably in bed on a Sunday morning. The sound of silence and healthy living, can be worth more than any gold.

A feeling of unease fills my every moment now here in Moscow. I feel this way due the terrorists attacks on the metro and at the airport over the last few years. When you mention terrorism in Moscow, some people reply ‘but terrorism is not only in Russia its international’. This is true, but does not make it any more comfortable to live with, I find this response highly annoying and rather pointless. The constant worry for loved ones and friends here, is almost too much to cope with at times. What is the best way to deal with it? Forget about it and just function? Leave and go where?

We all try to understand what motivates a man or woman to blow themselves up killing innocent people. We try but we simply cannot reason it or explain it. These acts are beyond all human behavior and beyond our collective understanding of human nature. Travel on the metro, travel on an over ground train, take a plane here or anywhere in the world and you look at others with fear and suspicion. Stand on a metro train carriage and find yourself scanning your fellow passengers for signs of terrorist ambition. The stereotypical man, with dark skin and heavy coat padding, the angry looking crazy woman who stands at the end of the carriage, the man with a heavy backpack, all are potential bombers in our fearful imagination. We stand on the escalator looking at our fellow passengers moving up and down the station, we wait to reach the bottom to get off and escape to our train and escape from harms way. People bury their faces in a book, newspaper or Kindle to block off their surroundings.

Terrorism makes us nervous and suspicious of others. It creates fear, paranoia and mistrust amongst our fellow human beings when we should have empathy, respect and kindness for others. If you let it get to you, all travel can be terrifying, a Russian roulette with our lives. It goes without saying, that it is extremely unpleasant and wrong. This is what the ‘terrorist’ wants, or at least that what we think they want. We are not so sure they have an objective, other than mindless killing. Perhaps the only safe place to live is the countryside? Life without public transport in any city would be impossible for us all. They have us where they want us, we are under their control, as they sit cross legged on the floor, in a dirty dark flat, hundreds of kilometers away somewhere from here, playing with electric wires and explosives after praying to a god we don’t understand or follow, planning their next mass kill.

Terrorists, genuinely believe, that by killing hundreds of people on a yearly basis, by suicide, they will actually make world powers give them what they demand. They are delusional. The world is now on a ticking clock. Our fates are controlled by an unseen evil hand, it is not nature that will decide our future or our past but mankind that will decide if we live or die, man is more dangerous now than ever before. The world is sinking further into a dark abyss of madness. Someone throw it a life line and save it before its too late. These are dark times and now for the first time since moving to Russia, I really struggle to find any humor to lighten this situation.

Further reading: The story of the path to terror and fanaticism can be found here

Its time to talk women, since Russia is famous for its women as well as its history and culture. If you are an English man, eat from the plate of fine caviar and move up the menu from fish and chips. Lets open our ‘stereotypes’ tin can again and pick on stereotypical Russian girls. Lets get basic and testosterone driven.

What is about Russian women that slightly scares me? Many Russian chicks are very attractive. I have to be honest and say they are not as attractive as Slovak women. I know this, as I lived in Slovakia for five happy years. Admittedly, I was and still am married, so I only looked at them as one would look salivating at a cake in patisserie shop window. I even taught English to some Slovak girls who would not have looked out of place at a model fashion shoot. I kept my beast chained to his stake and concentrated on verbs and idioms. It was not so easy but verbs and grammar are a great cold shower when you are teaching a stunning woman. I digress, Russian woman are our serious analysis here.

Russian girls look ‘Russian’, you can tell they are Russian without hearing them speak. Its the lips, eyes and the face that give it away. I find them beautiful but sometimes frighting, they look like they could crack open your nuts with their knees. They look confident and sometimes cold and often speak very good English. I spoke with one the other day and she said ‘there you go’ when she gave me my gym membership card back. I have always hated ‘diluted’ English and especially ‘Americanisms’ that have invaded every country now. What she should have said is ‘there you are’ but I let it go and forgot about it as she was very pretty, I felt scared of her and I don’t speak Russian. Diluted English is another topic and is a pet hate of mine. American English at times, seems to have over taken British English. As much as I love them, I blame Hollywood movies (films!).

The average white ‘English’ girl, nowadays who is young, is often fat, loud and drunk, especially on a Friday night in any town throughout England. Not a pretty sight. low cut jeans, g-string or ‘thong’ (or whatever they are called), poking over the top of her trousers, she has a short t-shirt and her two rolls of fat hang over her belt, her back or shoulders are tattooed with a unicorn and her hair is dyed to the degree of burnt sun dried straw. In short, not a pretty sight. Its time to leave a washed up England, and move from a cheap beer to a fine wine in women quality. The UK is now one of worst countries in Europe for obesity (see link) and heavy drinking (see link).

On the other side of the fence, Russian girls are often tall and elegant, although sometimes dressed slightly eccentrically with strange knee length boots, they are not so tarty in my own opinion. They are confident and beautiful. If you are a young man or a single, but rich professional, thinking of moving to Russia, you will not go hungry. I am not suggesting Russian girls are ‘easy” and regrettably I have no experience of them, but I think some may latch onto you as they want a better life and an escape from their lives here. Like all women, they want financial security, however love can also be the reason for marrying a foreign guy.

To most women, a foreign man is always an attractive package, like a handbag made in Italy. Eating out is often more fun than eating at home. Be their meal. If you are brave, get yourself over here and party. Drink from a new glass and dine on total beauty. But be careful, your heart may get broken as visa regulations are tough to cruel here and love may get painful and rather expensive. See it as an experience and live a little. Russia is calling you. She is exotic and waiting.

Note: Not all English women are fat and ugly and many people drink heavily in Russia, its not limited to the UK. I am only looking at stereotypes since we have so many now. Of course, all women are different but I have chosen to look at expected stereotypes as seen by foreign men and as shown in the popular media.

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