Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Worst (Best) Joke of the Year

Once upon a time, there was a Viking, Olf the Red. Olf the Red was a terror to behold, a dashing dangerous demon on the battlefield, a pillager of perfection. But his greatest gift was predicting the weather. Viking lords far and wide sent their emissaries to Olf to ask him what the weather would be upon certain days of the year- rain or snow, rain or snow, so they could know whether to go out and wage battle or stay home and eat meat.

Now Olf did not have a nicest personality, (I mean, come on, he's a Viking, hello!), nor the best table manners. But everyone let that slide because after all, every Viking had bad table manners. Sure, it bothered Olf's wench, Gertrude to no end that he was a total slob, cussed day in and day out, and belched the whole Viking alphabet for exercise daily, but she let it slide because he was such a good weather predictor, rain or snow, rain or snow, he always go it right.

The day came when Olf grew old and died, and to memorialize his unerring weather prediction skills, the Vikings made a rousing Viking song that we still sing to this day to honor the memory of Olf's skills:

Rude Olf the Red knows rain, dear....

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