Everything Sunny All The Time Always!
We have lost someone very important in the last 48 hours. Yes, I’m talking about our favorite jump-suit wearing, forehead flaunting, batshit crazy, Hollywood obsessed Korean dictator, Kim Jong Il. At 8:30 a.m. on Saturday, Kim-Jong died of a heart attack while riding a train, probably to his fake Hollywood playground that he funded with the tears and shattered dreams of his people. What’s more shocking than the fact that we now live in a Kim-Jong-less world, is that the North Korean government didn’t announce his passing until almost two full days after their leader had died. I’m not sure what transpired in that time, but my best guess is that his body was laid down on a large block of ice, while North Korea’s top scientists tried to find a way to reanimate his lifeless corpse. When that didn’t work, they probably weren’t very sure what they were supposed to do next, as they were used to only doing what Kim-Jong told them to do. A “ding-dong, the Il is dead” dance sequence most likely ensued, and looked fairly similar to Judy Garland original. Have you seen pictures of North Korean officials? They’re like the Korean lollipop guild, only minus the lollipops and plus a few semiautomatic weapons.
While any loss of life is a travesty, you do have to wonder how the passing of such a brutal and deluded man might have a positive affect on the lives of the millions of North Korean people. As a sign of solidarity for the North Koreans, and their somewhat brainwashed dedication to their late leader and his communist form of government that was both nonsensical and kept them in abject poverty, I will wear only a khaki green jumpsuit for the rest of December. However, instead of telling them there’s no food because I’m too fond of pissing off the international community to care about getting foreign aid, I will tell them to eat. And maybe I’ll throw in some running water for good measure. I can’t offer electricity, because you don’t want to overwhelm anyone. That will come in later updates with things like shoes and medicine.
I’m just hoping that maybe since Kim-Jong is gone, maybe the South Koreans will get a chance at running the show up in North Korea. It’s got an iceberg’s chance in hell at happening, but those South Koreans are my people. My adoptive people, but my people nonetheless. I love bibimbap, speed skating, and one day hope to have an adorable South Korean daughter. Not just one, but two of my very good South Korean friends have told me that if they somehow manage to get knocked up before they’re ready to have children, I can raise their beautiful little South Korean child as my own. This has lead to both excitement and some rather untrustworthy advice for my friends to stop using contraceptives. And after all of this, I think I have to now take a vow that I will do the only respectable thing that any of us can do after the passing of a husky, insane communist leader. I hereby pledge to name my firstborn South Korean baby after Kim-Jong, because as an avid childhood Full House fan, I’ve also always wanted someone in my life that I could call “Kimmy.”