The last time I was in Miami was the first time I won the gold, back in 2007. This time no one bothered to show up in my age and weight class, so the whole thing was for naught. No butterflies the night before, no resolutions that this is really the last time ever, and no restless sleep until dawn. I love judo and karate, not necessarily in that order, but the people one meets in tournaments make me a bit of a Lady Bracknell. The ex-Soviet Union ones are almost subhuman, their bald heads and thick necks and dead eyes as distinctive as their total lack of any modicum of civil behavior. They are and always will be total slobs. The Cubans from Cuba are almost as bad—arrogant, aggressive, much too loud at all times, and very anti-American. Refusing to mix with hoi polloi, I stuck to my own kind and got some lousy looks as a result.

Sure, Miami is a shithole for the rich and vulgar, and the Russians who’ve filled the place don’t help. Latino women on the strip walk beautifully and are feminine and chic. The Russians are all blonde, all on very high heels, and are mostly hookers. Latino women work as waitresses, beauticians, and receptionists. The men are too tanned, too tattooed, and talk too loudly on their mobile telephones. But the weather was cool and overcast, which was welcome, the food at some of the beach’s bistros was simply wonderful, and I leave in a very good mood for the south of France and my first movie role.

In the meantime, if any of you need to speak to me, furrgetabouitit. I’m in makeup in my trailer and mustn’t be disturbed. If there’s something extremely important, call my agent, Israel Goldfarb. He’s a nice chap and is taking a very large cut for his services. And if you’re interested, he also provides hookers and special services. See you on the Riviera.