Saturday, March 10, 2012

A word from a Dictator’s son

Pre Blog Warning: I'm taking a break from humor today to bring you something sad. Please prepare tissues for yourself before attempting to read the following story as written by a Dictator’s son:

"I walked into the bar just as the band ended their set. My Heated Jetty business closed down today so I’m really sad. I sunk like all my money into that business and it’s all gone! I still don't get it. People love hovercrafts right? But who wants to leave their warm ocean side mansion and walk on a cold jetty to get to their heated hovercraft? I'm right, right? Those two minutes walking in the cold can be almost unbearable! So buy a Heated Jetty, what’s the problem? It just makes no sense. I don’t know anyone else who sells Heated Jetties, so where are people getting them?

Fuck I hate the West, that's the third one of my businesses that's failed here so far. I barely had a single customer at my camel diaper store. 'The female circumcision business didn't take off.

They don't like my ideas either. They didn't take to my ‘bring your lion to your friend's amusement park day’ idea. And they never even listened when I told the local fire fighters they'd have more work if they used bazookas on retirement villages.

I'm down to my last 3 billion in allowance now, if I don't turn things around soon I'm going to have to ask dad to take over another country again soon, you have no idea how hard those calls are to make, there are like so many international phone codes, it takes up like ten minutes to dial them all, it's the worst, you just can not imagine, seriously. I shouldn't have to live like this.

I can't believe Pops sent me here to Oklahoma. 'Get to know the enemy' he said 'learn to live on your own'. Fuck you pops, your dad never made you 'get to know the enemy'. You got to start shooting children in the face when you were twelve too, but you made me wait till I was fourteen, just to be superior. You asshole.

I just wanted to hear some music playing tonight but the band said they were going on a break. Couldn't they have their slaves play in their absence? If those were my slaves I’d have caned them for making me look this bad.

Who am I kidding?’ I’d cane them regardless! Ha ha, at least I haven’t lost my sense of humor yet! Oh man, I miss my slaves. Anyway I've had a few drinks here, and the band hasn't restarted, there are no cute skinny Muslim virgins here, and my onion rings are taking forever! I'm just not in a good mood. I might just go home and snuggle up in bed with my lion".

Asmid got run over by a drunk driver later that night while stumbling back to his house and died a long painful death in a pile of dirty snow next to a dead skunk that had been run over a few weeks earlier. It's sad isn’t it? Hard to take really. I mean international phone codes are STILL hard to use and annoying people! I mean my god, when will the world learn. When damn it, when?

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