Hi, my name is...

  

No, I'm not Kim Jong-un (or how I call him: Kimmy). 

It looks like I have to disappoint those of you who expected that.  

The only reason I'm introducing myself right here with a photo of our favorite leader is that I fell in love with him. I want to tell you the crazy story of how that happened in this and a few other posts on this account. 

But first I'm going to introduce myself. I'm telling you the story of my life.   

I was born 1979 in Kilkenny, Ireland. I mean Ireland. Real Ireland. Not this stupid pseud North Ireland.  At least that's what my passport says. My mother, however, told me the craziest stories since I was a baby, and I remember some of them even now. Definitely the most memorable, and most disturbing, was definitely the one which was later only referred as "The Baguette Story".

My mother told me, at the age of 9, she lived on the streets, homeless. When she was hungry, she usually rummaged through the trash of rich people. And on that certain day she found a tasty-looking baguette which she took with her. 

Sitting on a lonely seat, the moment she was going to take the first bite, my mother saw a piece of plastic in there, sticking out at one side. When she opened the baguette, she found a used condom. It was still warm.  

Thinking about what she could do with it, she realized that she could make real money of a child. First, she would collect the child benefit, but when her child grew older, there would be even better opportunities, like selling it to Asian paedophiles or forcing it to work for some African warlords. So she took off her pants and put the rubber straight into her vagina, open end first. Finally she just used the baguette to get it really deep down. 

Two things happened: My mother became pregnant – and got also a vaginal yeast infection. This was no rarity though: Even at the time of her pregnancy, she sold herself for “drugs and stuff”. 

And this was the story. I don’t believe her but I think it tells a lot about her as person, telling something like this to her 9 year-old daughter. 

And you can’t be completely sure, can you? 

You may ask what this all has to do with Mr. Korea. 

To tell you that I will skip my childhood for now. (Crazy fucked up shit, maybe for another post.)  

In 2010 I first noticed Kim Jong-un. 

I heard about him before but this was the first time he really caught my attention. I saw him on the small TV screen in the kitchen of my apartment. I still remember the moment of his face filling the whole screen. 

And then I saw his eyes. Strong, experienced. And there was more: A dynamically expanding attraction. I could feel it getting from his eyes through the screen an spreading in the whole room.

 And I was just amazed. I hit the pause key on my remote and then just stared at him. I went for my best weed and just chilled with him, watching him. (Masturbating on him felt odd but surprisingly intense.) 

I was still not satisfied though, like a little kid, mad about its favourite superhero.  On the internet, I tried to find out all about him. I sat there for nights, not able to look away from his face on the second screen.  

TO BE CONTINUED…