Hey there. Remember me? I'm Kim Jong II. Ring a bell? No? Back in '06 I was the man. I detonated a low yield nuclear weapon off the coast of North Korea. How crazy is that? Plenty crazy. That's sniffing airplane glue, huddled in the corner of a rat infested basement writing cryptic Greek messages on the wall and screaming about ants and Wilfred Laurier crazy - but oh no. 2 years ago everyone was talking about me and my sweet nuclear stuff, but no one cares about me anymore.
You're all obsessed with Mahmoud and Bashar al-Assad. Freakin' losers. Can you even pronounce "Ahmadinejad?" That's just a mess of vowels and consonants no man should be made to decipher. You know what else? Mahmoud may be short, but I'm waaaay shorter. I am so short I am literally staring at the urinal puck when I take a leak. Most of it dribbles down my leg.
I'm not unreasonable, though. I'm willing to meet you half way. Give me a couple of slots on CNN showing how moon bat crazy and scary I am, and I am willing to go the extra mile for you. I'm already off to a good start. I'm an unstable despot who is constantly drunk on Hennessy brandy. I wear lifts in my shoes (mostly because of the dribble) and I spend endless hours in my private screening room watching Godzilla movies.
I can tell. You're not impressed. My man Gaddafi got sodomized with a knife while they dragged him through the streets. Tough act to follow you say? NAY! I will sodomize myself with a bat covered in rusty nails while giving you bedroom eyes. I will set my taint on fire and poop out a bar of uranium if that's what it takes.
That's dedication. That's the kind of nuttier than squirrel poop crazy that you're not going to get from that little dandy Al-Assad. It's not enough to be scary.
You deserve Skeletor crazy, and I promise - give me a chance, and I will be your lunatic bff.
P.S. Well now I am dead.
Lots of Crazy Love
Kim Jong Il
