The Secret Diary of . . . Kim Dotcom
Survived the latest attempt on my life when I was forced to make an emergency landing in my helicopter.
A wire had mysteriously come loose.
Close inspection revealed the fingerprints of none other than President Obama.
I phoned my lawyer. He's always really happy to hear from me.
I put the episode to one side, and went to visit broadcasting legend Sir Paul Holmes at his palatial home in Hawke's Bay.
There was something about him that I recognised.
A kind of holiness.
He seemed close to God.
He said, "Are you God?"
Survived another attempt on my life when I sat down this morning at my palatial home in Coatesville to eat my bowl of cornflakes.
They tasted sour.
I realised what was going on and spat them out.
With their sophisticated spying networks and their unlimited access to cornflake production, the United States government is bringing George Orwell's vision closer to reality.
Orwell wrote movingly about the plight of crass German millionaires accused of money laundering and copyright piracy.
I am convinced that the cornflake trail leads to the very top.
It seems incredible that President Obama would sanction an assassination attempt.
But everything about my life is incredible.
Mona came into the dining room and said, "What's that mess on the table?"
I began to explain, but she said, "The milk's off. Can you run up to the corner dairy?"
Made it to the dairy. Hot day.
Made it back home. Another hot day.
Mona opened the lid, and said, "It's gone off. Can you run back?"
Spent the day in bed and stared at my reflection on the ceiling. My mansion has many rooms, and in all of them I am comforted by the same sight: A giant self-portrait.
All of the pictures reveal my puckish sense of humour and modest character.
There I am as the Laughing Cavalier. There I am as Captain Hook. There I am as Jesus.
I like the Jesus one the best. My staff agree with me. I tell them I cannot perform miracles. They assure me that I am a living miracle. I agree with them.
There are more giant self-portraits in the hallways, the stairwells, and the cupboards.
But the pictures are not for my benefit. They're so that others can get to know me - and to know me is to love me.
It's comforting that so many New Zealanders feel that way whenever they see my photo in the paper.
Like the one on this page.
Look at how happy and loveable I am.
Look. Look. Look.
firstname.lastname@example.org; Twitter @SteveBraunias
- Taranaki Daily News
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