Old story about Brezhnev: His mother was still alive, though a little past the peak of mental acuity, when he arose to the top job. She came to visit, and he regaled her with the perks of Soviet leadership.
"This is my house," said Brezhnev, showing her around.
"And this is my car. And that's my swimming pool.
And this" — he shows her some photographs — "is my second house.
And this is my aeroplane.
And this is my villa on the Black Sea. And this is my yacht."
His mother gasps in wonder.
"You do live well, Lyonechka," she says. "But I am nervous for you. What if the Bolsheviks come back?"
What will we do if they don't leave?
Thanks for a good laugh. I miss ol' Leonid, it was easier to fight communism when they were Soviets and their stooges. When they are community organizers planted in our midst and pretending to be American, it is harder to fight.