Knut’s Dad Speaks (reprinted)

I reprinted this from a blog called “Pommygranate” – so it runs with credit where credit’s due. I kind of feel like this sometimes. Hope y’all enjoy it.


Knut’s Dad Speaks


This is a an exclusive guest post from Knut’s Dad, Jim.

“Ok, this shit has gone just about far enough.

Do me a favour, the next time you see yet another cute and cuddly picture of Knut rolling around in the grass with schoolkids yelling “We want Knut, he’s so sweet!” and start feeling all warm and fuzzy about me and my kids, flip on over to the National Geographic channel.

You see that giant, savage mammal standing proudly over that mass of blood? That’s me. And you see that mass of butchered, blood-soaked meat? That’s a cute, fluffy baby seal. I particularly like the taste of baby seal, especially killed slowly. And they’re just soooo much easier to catch.
Hi, nice to meet you, I’m a polar bear. I do not fuck around.
Now that I am famous, people and seagulls never leave me alone, even when I am eating. I fucking hate that.

And I’ll fucking explode if I hear one more time “Hey man, could you get Knut’s autograph for me?” I lack opposable thumbs dipshit. I don’t even like the taste of human flesh, it’s gamey and decidedly tough, but I’m damn near ready to start eating every last motherfucker who is dumb enough to approach me. Or at least giving them a good mauling.
What is it with you people and the white fur thing? Are you all wannabe members of the KKK or the Nazi party? You Westerners love it when shit is white. IPods, iMacs, polar bears, pandas, snow tigers, Moby Dick. But guess what fuckface, this fur is not a fashion choice. It is not there to make me look slick, as one Madison Ave marketing exec explained to me.
No, I have white fur because it allows me to blend in with the snow until I’m about three feet away from you and you’re feeling the last sensation you will ever register, my hot breath on the back of your neck. Bye bye whitefella.”


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