Issue #30/54, December 29, 1998 - January 14, 1999 
| In This Issue |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Golden Hairy Ass Awards |
| "chi-XXX-ploitation" page |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Once again, it's that time of the year again to present the eXile's highly influential "Golden Hairy Ass" awards. Again.
Every year, for over a decade now, the eXile has been presenting its "Golden Hairy Ass" awards to the best, the worst, and the hairiest of things-Russian. This unique, prestigious award was the brainchild of Dr. Shlomo Wong of the American Medical Clinic, who, after observing the asses of the eXile editorial staff, pronounced them "hairy" but "stable." And the rest, as they say, his history.
Just like every year, this has been the wildest and most dramatic year yet, what with crises, political shenanigans, and ideological epiphanies bursting in the brain cavity of our very own arch-villain, Moscow Times interim-editor Geoff Winestock. This was a year of death threats and unprotected sex like you've never seen before, of Starvin' Ivans and nutty anti-Semites, of unemployed stock brokers and redeployed Topol missiles--a year, in short, in which anything goes, including almost our entire readership. All we can say is, oh boy, folks, was this a doozy! We had it all and then some! What a wonderful experience for all us expats to take home and tell to our friends at the local microbrewery!
This year, we've added a new honor to our prestigious ceremony. We proudly introduce the eXile's "Viscous Hem" award, a gelatinous trophy in the shape of a nearly-bursting hemorrhoid. We're not sure what the award represents, but we think it's the kind of intelligent, off-beat sort of thing that our readers appreciate, and since everything's just so crazy this year, we figured, what the aych-ee-double-toothpick, you know?!
Incidentally, allegations of bribery and kickbacks among the jury in selecting our "Golden Hairy Ass" and "Viscous Hem" award recipients are entirely true, and we resent any insinuations that the awards were conducted in any sort of free or objective atmosphere.
But enough of our yacking. It's not like we're entertainment geniuses here like Billy "The Schmada" Crystal or something. Let's cut the crap and get the show on the road, folks. You're probably biting your nails right now, but we won't keep you up too late. Here goes. Ready? All right!
1. Big Swinging Hairy Ass: Boris Berezovsky
Every year we begin our awards by awarding a special "Golden Hairy Ass" award to the man, woman, or child who was both influential in shaping Russia-oriented events for that year, and whose ass is considerably hirsute. For the third straight year, that award goes to uber-oligarch Boris Berezovsky, whose ass is said to be billowing with coarse black hair, sprouting entire patches for each that falls out from the top of his head. While it's true that his influence has waned since the crisis--he lost his man-in-the-Kremlin, he's having a tough time getting along with Zyugs and the rest of the Communist guys, Sibneft is in deep doo-doo, Aeroflot has no passengers whose money he can hoover--Berezovsky has more than made up for it with ass hair.
Runners-Up: Mikhail Khodorkovsky, Alexander Smolensky, Vladimir Gusinsky. All have hairy asses and balding pates, but none as hairy as Berezovsky's.
Honorable Mention: Matt Taibbi. Lots of ass hair, very little influence
2. Come-From-Behind Hairy Ass: Michael Bass
We're not sure if his ass is hairy--we know his pate isn't--but we figure there's gotta be a few patches of fur on his tush. Why's that? E-Z. No man came from behind--hairy or not--to win the championship out here in a more pronounced way than Michael E. Bass. He was down by four runs, with two outs, bottom of the ninth, and two strikes against him. It was fourth and 10 with under a minute, and he was down by two touchdowns. He had Ebola, AIDS, viral meningitis, and a rare flesh-eating bacteria on the eve of a decathlon race and yet, he won 'em all, baby. We'd nearly written the obituary on Bass this spring, but we was wrong. Bass is now probably the most successful publisher in all of Eastern Europe, totes the smokingest arm decoration this side of the Danube, wears yellow-tinted glasses, barely has time for anyone but the A-list, sings like Joe Cocker, cruises town in a limo, and the scary thing is, he's probably just beginning. If that doesn't earn him a "Golden Hairy Ass," then we're just not doing our job here, folks.
Runner Up: The Communist Party of the Russian Federation, Moscow Times interim editor Geoff Winestock
3: Hottest Hairless Ass '98
This "Golden Hairy Ass" goes to the babe with the shiniest, tightest, most aerobiciz-in-est ass in Moscow. The trick here is that she has to have slept with someone on the eXile staff, and she has to have communicated a sexual disease that is easily curable either through antibiotics or pesticide-based shampoos. Unfortunately, there is no winner this year since the eXile editors and staff either never got laid (we had to do a lot of, er, embellishing to give you the impression that our offices are a 24-hour sex machine sweat shop, when in fact, we can't even masturbate anymore we're so unattractive), or got laid and contracted incurable sexually transmitted diseases that will eventually lead to their death. This was a tough year, not too different from the last 10 or so. And since two of our editors are already developing skin lesions and runny feces, we expect--or rather hope--that next year, some fresh blood will inject new life into this very, very special category.
4. Gnarliest Elephantine Ass on a Journalist With No Ethics Award: Kathy lally
This was an easy choice. While this year had a number of strong contenders (reigning "Golden Hairy Ass" recipient Jean MacKenzie for one), this year The Baltimore Sun's Kathy Lally swept past them all with her gnarled elephantine ass and lack of ethics when she first tried to get the eXile banned from Johnson's Russia List, then bit hard on an eXile prank when we posed as a community activist trying to organize a boycott against the eXile--which she agreed to lend her support to--and we asked her to participate as an expert witness in a made-up criminal case against the eXile editors, a case that we said involved the thuggish FAPSI spy service... And guess what? That beacon of the fourth estate, that protector of truth and the right to free speech... said she had to think about it! So please accept our "Golden Hairy Ass," Kathy. Display it proudly in your trophy case, or heck, just shove it up your ass! It'll feel good!
Runner Up: Susan Sachs, Newsday. Sure her ass is more like a deflated, chafed balloon than elephantine, and that's why she's only a runner-up. Still, Sachs wrote a smearing letter to the Johnson list claiming that we made up quotes, without double-checking that "fact" by asking us first. Sachs also has a very funny last name. We hope she names her kid "Harry" or "Dick"--if she does, we wouldn't be the first to call her "nuts"! We wonder if Sachs teabags her husband. Whattaya you think?
Honorable Mention: Jean MacKenzie. She's got the ass. She wrote the article about the Alfa Bank ATM machine that dispensed her dollars. Any questions?
5. Hairiest Shaven Box Atop a Grimy, Beer-Soaked Bar-Top, Getting Fingered By a Nigerian Stripper Award
This category was especially created so that the Hungry Duck would win a "Golden Hairy Ass" award every single year. The award this year goes to… yep, you guessed it... the Hungry Duck, for featuring tanked dyevs who bare all, shaven box included, to the world, for the price of admission. There's really nothing though like watching a bombed dyev get Nanking'd by the Duck's Nigerian Nightmare on Ladies' Night. Oo yeah, baby!
Runner Up: Papa John's. Whoa, what's this? Hairy shaven box on a beer-soaked floor in Moscow's favorite pizzeria? You got it! Weekends, they bare all, for the price of admission.
6. The Vichy France Award
This is the first award specially designed as part of our "Viscous Hem" awards. As you history buffs may recall, during World War II, much of France was ruled by a French government that eagerly collaborated with the Nazis, a government called "Vichy." Then, when it became apparent their friends the Nazis were going to lose, the French suddenly all became what they called "le resistance" and pretended like they never supported the Nazis. In a similar vein, nearly every Western reporter in Russia enthusiastically toed the "pro-reformer" line, the "Russia's turning a corner" line, until the crash in August; afterwards, nearly all shook their fists in anger at the corruption, theft and hypocrisy of the Yeltsin era. The Vichy France award is awarded to every last journalist or politico who once batted from one side of the fence, and now bats on the other.
