Tag Archives: satire nation

Li’l’ Kimmy: Diary Of An Ailing Dictator

kimmy respect my authoritah

 

“Dear Diary

My doctor said I have anger issues, so I had him shot…”

For more from everybody’s favourite megalomaniac and to see how deftly and shamelessly I have plundered Lenny’s site for copy, why not visit:

http://sozsatire.wix.com/soz-satire#!lil-kimmy-diary-of-an-ailing-dictator/cdw7

This beautifully edited skit (especially the lobotomy reference. I wrote that myself to add a sprinkle of stardust to the piece) was ripped  off without permission from Satire Nation. Cheers Lenny!

Clivey.

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Lil’ Kimmy: Diary Of A Dictator

kimmy respect my authoritah

 

Dear Diary,

The decadent West has come up with another way to raise money for charity. It’s called the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.

Famous people are presented with two options: Either pay 100 dollars to charity or have a bucket of ice water emptied over their heads and pay only 10 dollars:

I think it’s interesting that people get the feeling they’re helping other people by throwing a bucket of ice water over their heads.

I wish someone would challenge me one day. I would love to make a Youtube video of me accepting the Ice Bucket Challenge. That way the world could see I have a sense of humor and that, like most rich people, I’d rather shower in ice water than give money to charity.

I asked my lead advisor to film me as I poured a bucket of ice over my body, but he advised against it.

My lead advisor says the Ice Bucket Challenge wouldn’t work in North Korea.

First of all I was informed very few North Korean citizens have 4 gallons of water to spare. Second I was told people don’t have enough electricity to make ice cubes. Third, my lead advisor told me North Koreans generally can’t afford 100 dollars for charity. Or 10 dollars for that matter.
Also, no one had challenged me, so I was told it would be silly of me to dance in ice water when no one had asked me to.

Apparently most North Koreans can’t participate in the Ice Bucket Challenge, because they don’t have any ice or money.

That made me sad. I heard this ice bucket thing has already raised millions of dollars. It even got Barack to pay for charity.

And all it takes is a bank account, a Youtube account and a bunch of people who’ll do anything silly in exchange for not being held accountable for anything.

The West is a funny place. Whatever those people do with their money, it always ends up being more somehow. I really wish I could get in on that. Whenever I want money I always have to ask someone to get it for me. That’s not half as fun as I imagine a bucket of ice cubes can be.

My lead advisor advised me to just let this whole bucket thing go by. That bummed me out. A few years ago I wanted to have a go at planking because everybody was doing it, but my lead advisor at the time said I didn’t have the body for planking. It was the last advice that lead advisor ever gave me.

I really wish one day there will be an internet meme I can be part of. Who knows, I might even enjoy making money for charity.

Your one and unly,

Kimmy

P.S.
I was just informed someone tried to hack my computer. My lead advisor said I should probably stop using Internet Explorer and upgrade from Windows 98 to XP. I’m glad I caught it in time this time. I would hate for the world to get access to my computer. Imagine people reading my diary!

This bruising character assassination of one of the sweetest guys that ever drew breath is entirely down to the twisted ego of Lenny Van Ree and his decadent, imperialist website, Satire Nation.

 

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Lil’ Kimmy: Diary Of A Young Dictator

kimmy with live dog

kimmy dead dog

Before And After pics of Barack

 

Dear diary,

Last week I tried to dispose of my wife, but she blackmailed me into staying together.

So I bought a dog. I figured having a dog would be good for me. I heard a dog teaches people about responsibility. Being Supreme Leader having a dog seemed like good exercise.
Also, I felt I could use the love. Ever since my wife found out about me trying to oust her as a traitor she’s been giving me the cold shoulder.

When I was a kid I always wanted a dog, but my dead dad always said I couldn’t have one. I think he may have been afraid of dogs, because not one of his generals was ever allowed to own a dog. In fact, one of my advisors recently told me only executioners are allowed to have dogs in North Korea.

But now my dad is dead and I love dogs, so I changed the law and bought one. It’s a brown Labrador. It arrived in the mail yesterday.

I named it Barack.

I can’t say Barack and I hit it off well. At first Barack picked up a ping pong ball he had found and dropped it in front of my feet. So I grabbed the ball and told one of my maids to clean it and store it in the gift room, or parliament as my dead dad used to call it.
But then Barack started barking at me because he wanted back his ball, so I said: “No Barack, this is my ball now!”
That didn’t sit well with Barack. He started growling and looked at me as if he was about to attack.
That’s when I said: “I’m not afraid of you, Barack.”
That’s when Barack turned around and urinated over my legs.

My advisors tell me it’s not uncommon for dogs to pee over people’s legs, but when I said Barack meant it personal my advisors agreed I should probably have him put down.

So that’s what we did.

I think maybe dogs are not a good way to teach people about responsibility, because dogs don’t always listen.
I learned that much.

Your one and unly,

Kimmy

 

P.S.
I just saw Independence Day for the first time in years. I really like how America gets totally destroyed. There is this one scene where people are running through a tunnel, chased by this giant fireball. Only a stripper, her son and a Labrador survive. Thousands of other Americans are obliterated, but not the dog. I love that scene.

This cynical character assassination of a wonderful human being comes courtesy of Lenny Van Ree & Satire Nation.

Graphics by The Artful Dodger

 

 

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Lil’ Kimmy: The Diary Of A Young Dictator

kimmy

 

 

Dear Diary,

One of the things North Koreans believe is true of my dead dad is that he never pooped. At one point he just started a myth about him not having bowel movements. It meant he could only use the toilet when he was home alone. He was home a lot, but almost never alone.
He even had a special toilet installed in his bedroom, which I think some people must have thought was odd for someone that supposedly didn’t need it.

I know for a fact my dad did poop. Quite a lot, actually. I remember this one time he came down with a case of food poisoning. He had eaten some bad sushi. The diarrhea that followed inspired him to import a Japanese chef and to promote his previous chef to senior advisor for our country’s nuclear program. It’s also the event that directly led to the construction of his bedroom toilet.

Although I consider myself supreme enough to be able to poop, it does make me feel awkward and self conscious. I always get philosophical when I’m on the toilet. Whenever I take a dump I can’t help but think: So here I am, Supreme Leader of 24 million people, sitting with my pants down on a toilet seat, imagining what the smell must be like to others. I’ve always wondered what other world leaders think of when they go to the wash room.
Whenever I have to go I have at least two generals waiting outside for my protection. They know what I’m in the wash room for on account of the time I spend there. I wonder if Barack ever thinks about these things. Does Barack light a match after he’s done so his security people can’t know what the leader of the free world smells like? If that’s true, then it’s certainly not a free world he’s leading.

I gained some weight lately. It’s become difficult to reach my behind when I want to wipe it with toilet paper. Sometimes I barely touch it and just take a quick shower after using the washroom. My wife has noticed I shower more than I used to. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she knows. She even knows I know she knows, but she knows better than to confront me with it.
I’ve been meaning to discuss it with my dietician, but I’m afraid he’ll just tell me to eat less. I don’t like it when people tell me that.

It seems obvious why my dead dad eventually started the myth about him never pooping. The more supreme you are, the more difficult it becomes to ‘go’ when you need to. My dad probably wished he never had to go and seeing as most wishes come true in my family, he probably based his policy on his wishes, expecting them to align at one point or the other.

Oddly enough I find it reassuring to know my dad used the washroom like anyone else. It makes me less afraid of him. People that crap their pants over some bad sushi don’t scare me, even when they are my dead dad, who either did or did not shoot five hole-in-ones in a game of golf once. I’m still not sure. I saw him use the washroom a lot, especially when he got older, but I never joined him in a game of golf.
He never wanted me to come along.

Your one and unly,

Kimmy

P.S.
I just saw the movie Grown Ups. I think Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider are the greatest comedians of all time. They do fart jokes, but you never know where the fart is coming from. I think that’s smart.

 

This un-called for attack on a thoroughly decent human being comes courtesy of Lennard Van Ree of Satire Nation. Personally I think he should be ashamed don’t you?

Clivey

 

 

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