*Names have been changed to protect the guilty

Dear Diary,

King Sulayman here again. I have too much to tell you this time. Guess what? Remember when I said I would show the world that there are only Wahabarian rights and not human rights? I am so excite to say, Wallah, my tummy is quivering, I GOT IN!! They made me the big man on UN campus.

I actually wanted to be King of the Human Rights Council and I told Ban-what Moon too but they just gave me a measly Head. What will I do with a head? I have lots of heads at home. Rolling, hanging, you name it. But I still so excite.

The first thing I did was to tell everyone that these gay people are a no-no.  I spray painted all the rainbows white. They show too much what we do in our houses and if people were to know, it will get increasingly hard to get good young wives then. Wallahi, we might end up having to marry old 20 year old hags then. So I wanted to say let’s just throw them from the top of the UN building but ISIS is already doing that. They are so creative with their work; I wish I could recruit some to be our Muttawas.

We might even then get back to flogging Baif Radawi.

My humongest hotel is looking so nice now. The Big Abraj Kudai will be ready in 2017 and all my pilgrims will be able to go directly from their hotel room in a helicopter straight to on top of Ka’abah. Everyone is the same in the eyes of Allah, but they are a little better if they have more money. I even made some royal floors too; only because my dunce family gets so drunk at times, it is better they stay restricted to 40 rooms. By the way, look at my building carefully, I am projecting so much. *snickers*

But not everything is well. You know one of my sons got up the other day and said he wants to beat up Shaytan. I told him, let the others do it today, and I will keep him chained the next day for him and he can throw his sandals at him for all I care. But he just does not listen, the stubborn idiot. He is so much like his father. Oh wait that is me.

I told him not to go but he still went. He could have easily done the stoning and even the tawaf from his helicopter but the idiot said he wanted the true feel of HAJ and wanted to be on the ground with the poor people. So he did in his car. I told him, Habibi, no, there are people there, please use the helicopter. But like I said, he did not listen and went anyway. It was so messy later, I cannot tell you, we are still cleaning up the mess even now. Next year, he has promised though that he will take the helicopter.

As I said, not everything is well. This horrible woman filmed her husband molesting his slave. We are men. It is in our instinct to just go and grab a woman when we see them. We have no self-control, why do you think we keep all the women covered up. So if we molest someone, it is our nature. And also, we are paying her, she is our slave, it is allowed. So this shameless woman recorded her husband and posted it on YouTube. I have everything banned but I really hate those vpns. They teach people things! Khairon, I showed her. She is now going to jail. Let’s see how she likes to makes movies there. I will give her husband more slaves to molest. Poor man, he must be so ashamed of his wife and so traumatized by this ordeal.

Another one left traumatized is my King Badbullah’s son. Poor thing. He was just doing what we do in the US. The women of the West don’t have any morals; I don’t know what they were complaining about. But I do understand where he did wrong: he should not have left the woman bleeding. He should have given her a tissue at least. She must have ruined the fine carpet. Silly boy. But Bobama understands these things of course and he let him leave with a nice red carpet.

Speaking of women, I must speak to blasted Bakistan. Tralala was going to school, ok we tolerated it. She made schools, we said ok. But now even her mother is going to school? What will happen to our world if every woman out there got an education? Bakistan must really control Tralala or they will start looking progressive.

But not everything is bad. We are getting ready to crucify Fimr, the nephew of this kaafir Shia cleric who has an issue with us. We are all so nice to them but they always have to create trouble all the time. Anyhoo, we tortured Fimr really nicely and got him to sign a confession. It was a fun day. Then these human rights people started buzzing around like little bees, and really I had had enough so I issued an official statement since I am King of Human Rights, ok HEAD of Human rights take that! Bos Teezik!

And what 17 year old? He is now 21 and at a perfectly crucifiable age! And even if he was 17, that is not a child. Our girls are married by 9 at times, our boys raping by 14! HOW is 17 a child?

Besides, I haven’t seen my lasher this excited in years. He has even started playing squash to get his swing right. I am glad though they don’t know about the other boy Dawoud al-Marhoon yet though.

Which reminds me, I have to follow up on the Chaiks. They are translating that stupid book by Zafran Bushdie. I need to tell the ambassador again that he can’t do that.

Su business, Mi business.

More happy news, I am so ecstatic to see Pindia has started doing things my way. They aren’t Muslims, but it is good to see others take a stand for themselves by crushing others.

Oh more lashing. We found this wonderful old grandpa to lash too. Earl Kandee. We found alcohol on him. Can you believe it? So much lashing, such little time! Happy Days are here again. They are making excuses that he is 75 and he had cancer. So? He HAD. He doesn’t anymore and rules are rules, he knows not to drink in our pure land. He has to follow our rules if he is to live here. Otherwise he can go back to wherever he came from. After the 350 lashes of course.

Oof, now my hand is tired. Even more than last time because I wrote everything myself today. My diary writer had stolen my pen last time when he left, so I had to have his hand chopped. By mistaka, we chopped his left hand forgetting that he is left handed. Because of that imbecile, my hand hurts now. I will go and have my wrist massaged. Till next time Diary.

24th Oct, 2015.