IMMA CHARGIN’ MAH WARHEADS!

As witnessed in today’s news, we’re probably headed for nuclear oblivion due to North Korea and South Korea getting pissy because they keep on stealing each other’s parts of the duvet.

North Korea have threatened a nuclear “Holy War” (Misinterpretation of communism ftw!) on South Korea if military drills continue, and the US and Japan have decided they don’t want to try and talk things through because North Korea “haven’t done enough to deserve it”.  The fuck?  Are we in pre-school again?

I think people take North Korea too seriously, so FTD is here to lighten tensions and try to bring these two warring states together… by uniting them against a common enemy.  That common enemy being… well, me i my one bedroom student flat in Hull.

"We will run IP trace on this J and send much porn to his desktop!" - Gah.

Kim Jong Il runs a serious dictatorship.  While other dictators are happy with being a bit zany (“oy vey, that Hitler!  Always with the wise-cracks!”), he is stalwart in his demeanour and his moods in this ever changing world.  Due to his amazing ability to always be calm and collected under pressure, it may be difficult in reading his face.  He could seem placid, but under that chubby, Elvis-impersonator look lies the cold dead heart of a killer.  To make things easier, here is an easy to use chart detailing his different moods.  It now comes in an easily printable pocket format, in case you’re in Pyongyang visiting the Supreme Leader himself and need a clue as to what he is feeling…

Strangely enough, this is also the face he makes when he eats dead squirrels for his dinner every day.

Still, we at FTD felt that the dictator deserved to have his say on the many rumours surrounding him.  Due to his unwillingness to travel outside of North Korea, our very own Rhy and Napoleon travelled to Pyongyang to interview none other than the Great Leader himself.

Hi folks, and welcome to a very special episode of Forward to Death.  I’m Rhy.

Et ah am Napoleon.

And we’re here with a very special guest.  The one. The only. Kim Jong-Il!

*Nods head*

We zought zat we wood bee-geen wiz ze rumours surrounding votre chahldhood.  Meester Il, many journalists attreeb-ee-oote votre strange behaviour to your fah-zer.  Ees eet true zat you were molested as a chahld?

Well, Napoleon, that’s a common misconception with the imperialist western press.

It shouldn’t be a common misconception.  We made it up.

Well, in any case, let me clarify on that matter.  My father never had spanky-spanky-good-happy-squelch-time with me when I was a child.  My penis was simply too large for him to handle.

So you’re refuting the scientifically proved hypothesis that all Asian men have incredibly small penises?

No, quite on the contrary.  You see, I am no mere Asian male.  My body was sculpted by the Gods so that I might spread my seed throughout the world.

But eef votre gouvernement ees Commun-eest, ‘ow can you claim ze ex-eestence of God?

Well, Napoleon, our glorious nation operates under what I like to call religious Communism.  I have, in fact re-written the texts of Marx, Lenin and Stalin to include faith-based concepts that allow us to reveal the ONE GREAT TRUTH.

And zat trooth ees?

That I am fucking awesome.

I hear that you’re a big fan of the James Bond films.  Would you consider them to be your favorite films?

It was like that up until a few years ago when our Glorious Nation invented the DVD in 2007.  Then I discovered the films of Uwe Boll.

Oh, yeah.  He’s one of the best Western directors about.

I know that.  Anyways, we have repatriated Mr. Boll to our Glorious Nation and he is in the process of directing a biographical film.

Wow!  And ‘oo ees ze feelm about?  Tell all!

Why me, of course!  At first I was a little hesitant with casting Lindsay Lohan as myself, but Mr Boll convinced me she was perfect for the role. Of course, her body isn’t as good as mine!

Haha, you’re so right!  And would we be able to speak to Mr Boll or Ms. Lohan while we’re here?

You certainly can!  In fact they’re right over there, handcuffed to that radiator!

Oh mon Dieu!  ‘Ello, Meester Boll et Mademoiselle Lohan!  ‘Ow ees ze feelm coming along?

God, please help us.  They’ve not fed us in weeks!  The guards keep on beating us with their rifles!  Take us back!

Oh, you’re such a joker, Uwe!  Hey, Lindsay!  Stop trying to chew your hand off!  You’ll ruin that physique!

So, Meester Il, why ze tension towards South Korea?

They said some… reprehensible things to me at a dinner party.

Oh?  What like?

They called my mother a “slag”.

That’s not really a reason to nuke a whole country, though is it?

On the contrary.  I’ve never taken these sorts of things lightley.  Besides, we need their land.

To do quoi, exactly?

To build a Kim Jong-Il theme park called Benevolence Land.

Ah, and how much will the tickets cost?

Hah, Rhyknow.  You forget the principals on which this country is built.  We are a communist society, we have no need for money.  Instead of money, we select visitors from a national lottery.  Once a month, ten families are sent to the park for permanent relocation!

So eet ees like un camp de concentration?

Napoleon, shut up.

This interview is over.

 
So after being thrown out of North Korea for defaming the Supreme Leader, what are your thoughts on Kim Jong-Il? Rhy?

A truly remarkable man.  Personally I don’t understand why everyone is so harsh on him.  I mean, I think we would have had an open invitation for cocktails over at his if Napoleon hadn’t fucked it up.

Eet was a seemple question!  Ah personally do not like ze man.  ‘Ee seems a leetle…strange.

Oh, just because he wanted to sleep with you, he seems strange!  We’ve been through this before.

But ‘ee kept on asking me to rub ‘is leg…

Oh, Rhy!  You and your sexual molestation stories! Nobody believed you when you said Rhy put a ball gag in your mouth and called you his bitch!

Uh… yeah. Nobody beleived that! Hah!
Anyways, just before we go, we’ve got time for one letter!  Hyun Ban-Park sent us this photo of Kim Jong-Il’s first ever emotion!

IMMA CHARGIN' MAH LAZER!

 

Also included is a short, scribbled note that reads “being relocated to Benevolence Land, please help, don’t want to die”
Super!  If you’re watching have a great time at Benevolence Land, Ban-Park! Anyways, thanks for reading this special edition of FTD!  It’s goodbye from me!

And goodbye from me!

Hrrmph! Hrrmph!
The Great Micturator : A biography of the Great Leader is out next month, directed by Uwe Boll, starring Lindsay Lohan as Kim Jong-Il, Bill Cosby as Barack Obama and Marlon Brando’s corpse as Herbert the magical dove.

Let’s get one thing straight…

Fanatical religious types of all denominations, people who bomb abortion clinics… Fanatical christians, islamists, zionists, the EDL, the BNP, the Westboro Baptist Church, the NF….

They’re ALL idiots.

Thank you!

Fucking weather

Again, I apologise for the constant lack of updates. I have had other things on my mind and a certain lack of inspiration. But today, I just need to rant.
Let’s get one thing straight: I fucking HATE London with a passion. It’s crowded, it’s expensive and it’s full of southerners (okay, I kid, I kid. Southerners aren’t all bad).

Anyways, I was up at five this morning to get a taxi to the train station. Got a coach, got to London and then proceeded to spend three bastard hours on the tube because of delays due to the adverse weather.

Feeling as if I was going to pass out, scream or die of an anyeurism, I finally got to Finchely Road tube station and am now waiting in the pub for Shiv to finish his volunteer work for the day.

Beer. Mmm.

The thing is, I don’t get why the whole country shuts down in the event of snow. We’re practically a scandanavian country in terms of geographical location. We should be used to it. But NO. At the slightest sign of snow, the country just shuts down.
I used to live in a small village in central Italy called Trevignano. In the unlikely event of snow, the chains would come out on the wheels and the buses would stop running altogether.

In France, we had snow once every five years or so. I’m not used to snow. I hate it. It snows, gets slippy. The snow freezes and gets slippier. The ice starts to melt and you’re doing your best Wayne Gretsky impression as you hurtle down the street at 60 miles an hour before landing flat on your arse, much to the amusement of local chavs who proceed to pelt you with snowballs and call you a wanker.

And that, your honour, is why those Chavs are in the hospital. Ahem.

But seriously. The snow wears off it’s novelty after about three days or so, let alone two solid weeks of it. Kids build snowmen and I take great delight in beating the shit out of them (the snowmen that is). Even they get bored of it after about a week or so.

So, in resume, your honour, I am here because I fucking hate snow with a passion and it causes me to go slightly apeshit. I didn’t mean to faceplant that three year old when he threw a snowball at me. My alternate persona took over.

Not guilty, you say? By way of institutional insanity, you say? Sent to a psychiatric hospital for observation? Sounds great, just let me pack my- oh wait. How much is a room per night? Free?! Great! I’ve always wanted to be doped up on drugs and have somebody else wipe my arse.

They gonna take me away!
J