I was playing golf at my country club when the ghost of Kim Jong-il joined me. He seemed confused.
Fresh ghosts don’t know they are dead. They tend to assume they are dreaming. But after the passage of a few days, they begin to question what’s going on.
I got out my cell phone and googled Kim. I showed Kim the news stories about his death.
Kim got upset. A few minutes into his death tantrum, I interrupted Kim and pointed out a squirrel ghost that just a few minutes ago had been run over by a golf cart. The squirrel ghost was throwing a fit on the putting green.
Kim laughed. It’s humbling to see yourself being reenacted by an animal.
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