You know what they say about two wrongs? 

They’re only the beginning. Look at North Korea. First there was Kim Il Sung, a self-professed military genius who invaded South Korea in 1950 only to be booted out at great cost to life, limb and everyone but himself: he continued to flourish as North Korea’s Great Leader. 

He could be counted on to run any economy into the ground. And he did it with a skill not seen since Bernie Madoff. 

His greatest triumph came in 1990 when the North Korean economy collapsed following the break-up of the Soviet Union. 

His successor was the pudgy Kim Jong Il. Dear Leader tried to make North Korea an export-driven economy not unlike Malaysia but his plan of exporting large, ornate and grandiose statues of himself didn’t find a ready market until the self-confessed economic genius hit on the idea of slipping in nuclear bombs as sweeteners. 

The international outrage that followed forced him to reconsider. Even so, he  took comfort in the advice he received from Vladimir Putin: “If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your preferred choice.” 

His son thought he would not follow in the footsteps of  his less-than-illustrious ancestors.

“Not by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin,” cried North Korea’s soon-to-be Big Enchilada and he turned out to be prescient. The  beefy boy grew into a dumpy despot with more chins than Elizabeth Taylor.

He thought he’d done a better job than his predecessors.

For one thing, his country had more nukes, tanks and soldiers than they had food for the people but that, thought the ample autocrat, was “neither here nor there.” 

The trick now was never to allow his enemies any access to his  heath records.

Example: When Fatso recently met Vlad the Russian in Beijing, the portly plenipotentiary’s staffers wiped down all items he touched. The “Look Ma, no DNA” routine comprises part of security measures to counter foreign spies.

It gets weirder. The corpulent Czar even packs his own toilet. Where Supreme Leader is concerned, it’s “Love Me, Love My Crap.” 

Nothing is beyond belief: he even has his own Patrol for Poop-Protection. 

Such measures, apparently, are standard protocol since the era of Kim’s predecessor, his father Kim Jong Il.  The special toilet and the requisite garbage bags of detritus, waste and cigarette butts are so that a foreign intelligence agency, even a friendly one, does not acquire a sample and test it. 

Apparently, Israel’s Mossad spy agency had charted Yasir Arafat’s complete health profile through a stool sample. 

It’s routine so to speak. In 2019, after a Hanoi summit with U.S. President Donald Trump, Kim’s guards were spotted blocking the floor of his hotel room to clean the room for hours, and taking out items including a bed mattress.

You might say paranoia ran deep in his heart. But the tubby tyrant didn’t care. He knew his enemies were just jealous because “the voices only talked to me.” 

In truth, Korea’s Jabba the Nut was a Marxist so he should have  been an atheist. But he played it safe and declared he was agnostic. 

Even so, he is still a mental mess having been diagnosed as a paranoid dyslexic. The armies of paranoia marched behind his eyes. 

That’s why he spends all his time worrying if there is a Dog. 

ENDS