The Continuing Madness of Kim Jong Il

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment cross-posted from IMAO)

So last week, North Korea launched some missiles, called the tests "a success" when one of the missile crashed into the sea after 42 seconds, declared that they have a right to ICBM's, and demanded one-on-one negotiations with the US.

Throwing things, lying, whining, crying... this isn't a nation, it's a tantruming toddler.

And like a toddler, North Korea and it's freakishly coiffed Grand Poobah of the Sacred Monkey Lodge (or whatever the hell his title is) will probably indulge in other bizarre behaviors designed to get attention. I speculate thusly on what Kim Jong Il might do:

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Order pictures of a bikini-clad Helen Thomas to be painted on the noses of all North Korean fighter jets.

Change the country's name to "North Koran" to get more foreign aid from Muslim countries.

Accidentally drop his glasses in the toilet, then declare it to be a successful test of North Korea's "waterproof spectacle" technology.

Order airbags installed on all North Korean citizens to protect them from falling rocket chunks.

Tout Communism's documented success as a weight-loss plan. Move over Atkins!

Start doing press conferences in his bathrobe, which will keep "accidentally" falling open.

Actually read the Pajamas Media blog on a day when he hasn't been linked by it.

Call psychic hotlines and demand one-on-one negotiations with Miss Cleo.

Grow a matching poofy Hitler moustache.

Blame widespread starvation on an Internet Explorer security flaw.

Attempt to re-start production of the Edsel.

Attend official state military parades wearing a Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts, black socks, and sandals.

Start answering the phone with "Ahoy-hoy?".

Teach the North Korean negotiating team the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique.

Order his army into South Korea. When South Korea complains, he'll look surprised, smack his forehead, and say "I knew I should've had them take that left turn at Albuquerque!".

Shoot Superman in the eye just to watch the bullet bounce.

Call President Bush "an iron-willed, straight-shooting cowboy who doesn't take crap from anyone" in a tone of voice suggesting that it was an insult, then giggle when Bush looks confused.

Break wind, then say loudly, "I AM FARTICUS!".

Only appear in public wearing a coonskin cap.

Wait... I'm sorry, that's actually his hair. Nevermind.

Claim that he can't help his war-like ways, because he was orphaned as a baby and raised by wild landmines in the DMZ.

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If we're REALLY lucky, he might hire Bill Keller as his head of national security, but that's probably just wishful thinking on my part.

Posted by: Harvey at 06:11 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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