Since then . . . . .

If you are Russky scum, don't post, just fuck off and die somewhere painfully, cunts.

Since the trip to the consulate my wife has been regularly going to the various offices to try to solve the problems. She has been met with the typical rude attitude. With a miniscule amount of power of you, these fuckers will make your life a misery. And they have. We have introduced a lawyer, who has not helped much yet.

The British consulate there have been no help at all. Their advice was written with hindsight - we should have looked at the consulate web site before going. i wish i had. The question of course is why didn't the scumbag at the Russky consulate here tell us about the problems we would have. If the British consulate there knows about it, surely he does.

All these delays have put a massive strain on our marriage. I blame my wife in some ways. Had she listened to me in the first place, our son would not have taken Russian citizenship. After all what advantages does their citizenship have? None. Can't go anywhere on their passport. But you can be forced to join the army for 2 years. Nice. I'm sure if our son knew what the Russian future had for him he would have pleaded with his mum not to get him that citizenship.

During this time i have taken to drinking too much whiskey and vodka. Most nights you would, if you could get into my apartment, see me staggering round the place drunk. Ho hum.

The aftermath

I got on my flight home after the visit to the consulate. In the 50 minute taxi ride home from the airport all i could think about was whiskey. As soon as thr taxi dude dropped me off i was in my car and driving to the nearest booze shop to get something to drink. Hello Johnnie Walker Black Label.

Now that little bastard never lets me down. 2 hours later i was fucked and lying in bed sound asleep. Since then most nights have started and eneded with either a bottle of scotch or copious amounts of vodka and orange. Some mornings and afternoons too. Not many bosses would agree to buying you a bottle fo Absolute at 5pm and delivering it. Mine did

Am I a hypyocite cos i drink Russian vodka but claim to hate Russkies? Fuck off. This shit is made locally, but ice cold it all tastes the same. Maybe a different hangover.

The Russians break me

So about 7 weeks after my wife should have got her new passport, she finally gets her new passport. Next up, our son.

Now, if you have never been to Russia, this may be difficult to comprehend. If you have had the unfortunate experience of visiting a Russian consulate you'll be able to picture, quite clearly, the situations.

I spent 5 hours waiting for the new consul man to speak to me the other week. 5 hours!
I announced my arrival through a mirrored glass screen when i arrived at 10am. (50 USD flight remember) At 12.10 after a couple of reminders and and rather curt "padazhdetye" (Wait) he told me to come back at 1pm. Went for a spot of lunch. Returned at 1pm. At 3.20pm he came out from behind his glass screen, still wearing his cyborg phone thing, but that's not the point. During my wait i witnessed rudeness I have never seen before.

Visa runners, that'll be the people who get visas on behalf of tourists for tour companies, were routinely ignored, spoken to like they were a dog turd and generally made to feel like they shouldn't be there. Some poor fools actually went to process their own visas. 2 Indian girls were talking to a guy who was trying to humour the sour-faced bitch behind the mirrored screen. One of the Indians said to him "They are so rude here. And it's the same when you get there. Everyone is so rude." Couldn't agree more.

Why was I there? Ah yes. The passport office in St Petersfuckingburg had rejected my son's application on the grounds that he is not Russian (if only he wasn't).

They needed confirmation from the Russian consulate that he is Russian. Right. Let's understand this. The Russian consulate put my son in my wife's Russian passport and assured us that we had everything he needed to get a Russian passport / citizenship. They said that by adding him to her passport he was, in effect, Russian.

Not so! The documents came back to the consulate here for verification. I rang the new consul general wanker for 4 hours before he answered. Yes he'd received them. Yes he would look into it. Yes he would call me. 5 days later, nothing. And no answer on the phone. (Fucker knew it was me.) So, a flight there to sort it out. I always prefer a face to face, even if it means getting up at 4.30am, still drunk, to get the first flight.

The outcome of this visit, besides witnessing the rudest nation on earth do their worst, was a load of crap from Mr New Consul man, interestingly called Alex Rude, if you translate it.

He would not issue any further documents. "Everything is in order." He suggested a lawyer to force the hand of the passport office in St Petersburg. "It is strictly against regulations" to do what my wife was asking him. What was she asking him to do? Write a a letter confirming our son's claim to Russian citizenship. Not exactly going to start a diplomatic incident is it. Hardly supporting the London bombers. But no, cannot.

I was not looking forward to calling my wife to tell her this news, not least because to call Russia from anywhere in the civilised world costs the GDP of a developing nation per minute. From here, about USD2.40 per minute. When you can only buy top up cards for USD 20, that's not a long phone call. Luckily, or not, she called me. I passed my phone to Mr Rude. 5 minutes later he gave me back my phone. If I ever hear my wife crying like that again I will kill the cunt that caused it. When I left the building my legs gave way and i was sick. I thought that only happened on cartoons an films.

The Russians had finally broke me.

The first of too many

4 weeks after my wife and son arrives back in her home town of St Petersburg she finds out that she has to courier back here the marriage documents to be legalised. She can't get a new passport without this.

Mr Maxim, consular man / half fucking witt / scrotum sucking piss flap says to me that i should go there to take the docs to another city to get the legalisation done.

Excuse me Mr Maxim, consular man / dumbshit / cocksucking nonce, that will cost me a 90USD flight, a days leave, fuck knows how much in taxi fares and i have no clue where to go to get this shit done.

He agreed to do it himself. Cunt, but a decent cunt I suppose. Realised he was a cunt and tried to make amends.

I finally getthese documents back from a friend who happened to be there while this was happening. The 40USD courier charge to send them back was of course my responsibility. Although it was the Russian scums fault for fucking up, I still have to pay for sending these documents both ways.

Stage 3

So, what have these scumbags done to upset me so much that I am taking my valuable time to share. I like to share is one reason.

Well, firstly, the consular departement of the Russian Embassy are hopeless. On asking what we should do to get married the fat fuck suggested that we "Go to Russia." At 7 months pregnant this was clearly not going to happen. (my wife (future) not me was pregnant). When she started crying the clown proffered "Don't worry, be happy." to pacify her. Thanks for that Mr Consular Wankshaft. Next time i see you in the street, remind me to batter you with a baseball bat then set fire to you before arranging a group of homosexuals to gang rape you, you fucking insensitive twat.

Eventually, these problems were sorted. We got married only 6 weeks before the birth. After the birth of our son we went back to the consulate to get everything sorted out for citizenship.

At the British consulate things were very straightforward - birth certs, marriage licences, marriage certs etc. Our marriage is legal and he gets his British citizenship based on his fathers citizenship. all this took maybe 6 weeks.

At the Russian consulate, a different kettle of fish. Numerous translations and stamps and an enourmous amount of cash, unreceipted, later, Mr Maxim says that my wife has everything she needs to return to that fuckhole to a) renew her passport and b) get a passport for our son. He will accompany her after being put inside her passport. Not physically, just a photo. And so on April 28, they left. Since then I haven't seen them.

Stage 2

Since his birth there have been problems with the Russians. They create problems to satisfy their own sick humour. If a Russian can make life more difficult for you, s/he will go out of their way to do so. They don't mind doing more work just to make sure you don't get the answers you want, the decisions you'd like made and the documents you need. They have, in the words of a good friend, made an art form of making life a misery for others.

It must be a disaster to realise that you are Russian. For a G8 country they have as much freedom in the world as a Taliban leader. About as welcome as a dose of the clap in most countries. Free to go to Uzbekistan or Tadjekistan. Who the fuck would want to go there? And even in places where they don't need a visa, they are as welcome as that dose of the clap. Not surprisingly the ex-republics dislike russians - why? - for making their lives a misery.

Since the fall of Communism they have started on a new enemy - everyone who wants to visit the shithole country. If you want culture and architecture go to Tallin or Riga. Safer, more civilised and much friendlier than the major tourist hot spots of the motherland.

I give an example to back up this claim. In a 4 day break there in the summer of 2004 (4 days because the consulate fucked up my visa - incompetent fools) I witnessed, in 4 hours on Nevsky prospect, the main street in St Petersburg, three attempted robberies by gypsies. Attempted because I stopped them. The victims? Tourists. Their problem? Looking like tourists. What did the locals do? Stand around like the shower of cunts they are, tutting at the cheek of the gypsies who dare to surround and then rob tourists. CUNTS! It's quite simple. You wade in with a few kicks, fists flying and the little bastards scatter. The pregnant ones might stand tall, so you aim a kick at the unborn child, cause a miscarriage, you'll be doing the world a favour.

What has this got to do with my son? Stage 3 . . . . .

The Start

The birth of your first son should be a momentous occassion. One you'll remember forever. I will. To see him grow from a 2.05kg (very small) baby, seeing him sit up, babble, stand up, walk. All these things a father should see. it would make me so proud. i won't see that. Why? The Russians, that's why. I am not Russian, my wife is. We did not meet through a dating agency, she did not marry me for a chance to escape the 'rodina'. We met in a nightclub, both drunk, both having a good laugh with our respective friends. 2 years later i left Russia to work in this country, she followed, we married, she had our first child. . . . . . . . And that's where the fairytale ends