I
WISH I WAS BORN A VIKING. My ancestors came from Denmark. Danish men are all squat and muscular. Most of us are pretty big boys who have pink, ruddy faces. My wife calls me "Pinky" because of my complexion, but don't tell anyone I told you so! Her pet name for me kind of unfortunately stuck, to the seemingly endless amusement of my so-called, friends and family. My dad had a more masculine nickname All his friends called him "Swede". This moniker never made any sense to me, since my dad was Danish; but "Swede" sounds a lot more masculine than "Pinky."
Anyway, Vikings were imposing figures. I loved their outfits. They wore big, pointed helmets, with horns coming out of the sides. They had long tangled hair, and big bushy, red beards. All of them had huge arms hanging out of these keen looking leather vests, which were topped off with metal breast plates. The armor was decorated with threatening looking icons like skulls, dragons, and all kinds of neato stuff like that! They wore loose, baggy pants that looked like burlap. They had big old boots that were lashed together tightly with suede, crisscrossed fashionably all the way up to their knees. They also had awesome looking shields, big-assed swords, head-pounding hammers, giant twosided hatchets, and leather gauntlets on their huge wrists which went all the way up their forearms!
The Vikings were beautiful in all their menacing glory. They waged war, raped, murdered and plundered at will all over Europe. They were bad "Mofos" man!
The Vikings were beautiful in all their menacing glory. They waged war, raped, murdered and plundered at will all over Europe. They were bad "Mofos" man! They controlled the seas as well, with their beautiful Viking ships. The Vikings knew how to party with the best of them! They had lodge parties where they drank alcoholic beverages out of huge pewter tankards which they held in one hand; while the other hand held a big old leg of mutton, or wild boar. The big men slobbered down the meat and mead, while the juices dripped down their raggedy beards. Then they slammed their empty tankards down on the big oak tables, and wiped the meat and suds off their mouths with the sleeves of their jackets. They were really awesome! I never went to a fraternity party in college that ever topped a Viking fling!
In all the movies I've seen about the Vikings, gorgeous long-haired, blonde, barmaids are constantly refilling the Viking's mugs with giant pitchers of brew. All the Viking waittresses had humongous breasts, spilling out of their dresses. The Viking guys always grabbed a wench whenever they pleased. They pulled the maidens onto their laps, and dug underneath the women's skirts with their greasy hands. (They never had to tip them, like in the Lap-dance bars!) They'd kiss the girls on their mouths, play grab ass at will, then drag them off to the haylofts to have their way with them! All the wenches laughed and enjoyed the gay ribaldry! No Viking warrior was ever rejected by the comely females. The Vikings were gods in their long houses, and demanded to be treated with respect and admiration!
These men often fought and wrestled amongst themselves for the pure pleasure of the violence. Manliness was the credo they lived by and died by. The Vikings who were lucky enough to live to an old age, were revered and respected by the coummunity. Most of these men died young in battle, or succumbed to a variety of diseases. When an elder died, he received a Viking funeral. His cohorts wrapped his body in his finest clothing and armor. His sword and shield were placed next to his body. They then placed him in a beautifully decorated, sea-worthy vessel. He was laid out in style, with his favorite possessions surrounding him. I'm sure the old pewter tankard, which held many a round of mead, was included. The dead Viking's dog was murdered, and laid at his feet, to keep him company in the afterlife. Then the ship was set ablaze and cut loose from the mooring. Prayers for the safe journey of his soul were said by his fellow combatants, as the ship sailed off into eternity, in a blaze of glory.
A huge party celebrated the death of a great warrior. Eating, drinking, fornicating and violent acts were enjoyed by all! This all sounds like a wonderful life for a man! There was no need for therapy, rehab, colonoscopies, or political correctness. If you didn't like someone, or something they said, you ran him through with your trusty sword, or whacked him on the head with your hammer. Things were settled quickly and decisively by the good-old Vikings. Back in the eighth to tenth centuries, they ruled the world. I think their lifestyle inspired the old adage: "Live hard, die young, and bury a good looking corpse". The Vikings sure didn't spend their old age wringing their hands in doctor's waiting rooms, or laying in hospital beds, trying to fight the inevitable. Maybe they died young, but damn it, they had some good times! They went out like men. Yes, I wish I had been a Viking!
