The Dictators and Me
Dear Diary #3

I’ve discovered the reason for the endless laughter: Hitler has staged the classic “bed-on-roof-prank.” Except it wasn’t with beds. It was with their coffins from their feigned deaths.  They figured it’d be a waste of money to buy beds when they have perfectly good coffins.  Due to all the sedatives being thrown into mouths without consent around here, no one noticed their coffins were gone for 5 days.

I woke up at 6’clock to alarmingly loud German, Russian, North Korean, and Italian insults being rapidly fired at one another.  I shook my head at the antics, then told them if I had wanted to run a summer camp, I would have auditioned for The Parent Trap.  A spontaneous viewing of The Parent Trap ensued.  But now… I’m starting to get…very… tired…

Lately, Hitler has taken to the hobby of feeding Jong Il sedatives while he’s asleep (his mouth is often open when he sleeps). When Il wakes up, he always asks one question, and one question only:  ”Can I visit my father?”

And I’m like, “Bitch plz.  Your father is DEAD.”

And then he recedes back into his dazed stupor. Because, you know. Sedatives and all that shit. Hitler continues to laugh manically day and night.  I’m still trying to figure out if it’s because of the aforementioned events, or something completely unrelated. 

Update:  Turns out Stalin got Mandela confused with Kony.  When I reminded him who Mandela was, he responded with, “Oh. He was cool, too.” 

Stalin came to my room during the middle of the night and whispered, ‘I wish i would have been more like Mandela.’  Still not sure if he was joking.

Texts with the Dictators: Group Message

Me: I’m trying to learn Italien, German, Korean, and Russian at the same time, you guys!
Me: Bonjourno!
Me: Allo!
Me: anyoung haseyo
Me: дравствуйте!!
Mussolini, Hitler, Kim Jong Il, Stalin:


Fun fact: Stalin’s favorite book is 1984. 

(we had a ‘confessions’ night last night)

Apparently, Lenin showed up on our doorstep begging for a place to stay.  Kim Jong Il opened the door, screamed, then promptly slammed the door in his face.  I do not know what this is about.  It must be an inside joke. 

Bitches in the club

Bitches in the club

The day Eva Braun and Hitler first met. 

The day Eva Braun and Hitler first met. 

I am so confused by this blog

Just a bit of treasonous, radical fun.