Winter's approaching. There's a nip in the air. So I do what any dictator does and start the heater, the start of the art Moscow 1957 model. Two weeks later the bill turns up and I see that the oil price has gone through the roof! Oi vey.
I open my latest copy of the Imperialist Post
and discover an article all about me. I can't read English, which in part says The Dear Leader is a pudgy 5-foot-3-inch Stalinist who wears elevator shoes and a puffy pompadour in an unsuccessful attempt to gain stature. Like Hitler, he's an arty aesthete who prefers kitschy artifice to grim reality
...my helpful staff translated this as The towering figure, the light to us all who will lead us to our glorious future. He's just like his father.
Very nice. Shame I had to use the paper to warm up the palace...it seems like a good article.