There won’t be much cheer for dictators this holiday season. 2009 has not been a good year for us, what with all the peace deals and UN busybodies snooping about. And don’t get me started on the recent war crimes trial of comrade Radovan Karadzik. For shame! The thought that such a powerful man(iac) could be treated with such disrespect makes me want to invade something.
Sadly, I can’t do that however, because I am still a dictator-without-a-country. This is now my second year in exile after those bastards in the military overthrew me. Luckily I escaped on my private jet before they could string me up, but I have no regrets. I have to admit I still get teary-eyed thinking back to that fateful morning when I sat on my veranda, sipping my morning coffee while watching the troops storm the gates, take out my personal body guards, and commandeer my Rolls-Royce and PlayStation. It just shows I trained them well. They overthrew the capital with such precision and professionalism that I can hold my head up high and say ‘Yes, those boys who are now my enemies did their jobs well.’ Oh well, can’t complain. I have my stash of riches and mistresses and will one day return to power. The plot continues, as we like to joke!
I’m not a religious man but Christmas is always a happy time for me. How can it not be when as dictator all my underlings were under strict orders to give me presents and praise. One year, a minister in my government gave me his wife. Seriously! Oh, how we laughed. Maybe I shouldn’t have had him shot. He was my brother after all. But hey, one of the hallmarks of being a ruler is our unpredictability.
But 2009 wasn’t all bad. I had some Hollywood producers contact me for the rights to my life story. Seems that the Che Guevara gravy train has run dry and they’re looking for the next charismatic revolutionary to put on a t-shirt. They weren’t phased at all when I told them that I used to adopt African babies so that my real kids would learn some gratitude and quit crying about the beatings. Said it would make a great celluloid moment a la “Mommie Dearest.”
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