To tell you the truth, I had a hard time explaining all the great things about my grandfather, Leonard Pudding Dickenson or as I called him “Pappers,” into writing. I mean, how do you sum up all of the achievements of someones life in one speech? I know I can’t do justice to his tremendous legacy, but I want to offer us a chance to remember just some of those things we loved about Pappers.
Pappers was a lot of things to all of us: a father, a grandfather, a husband, a World War II veteran, a gunowner, and a sperm donor. Pappers was all of these things and I know he touched our lives in a number of ways. My earliest memories of Pappers were of those summer afternoons when my mom and dad would drop me off at his house. I remember walking into his study where he was asleep in his old leather chair with the newspaper on his lap. I always thought he might dead- I would panic trying to decide what to do with the body- but he always woke up with a little jerk and would shout something about the Jews, before he realized he had only been dreaming. Pappers was a dreamer, that’s for sure. I remember his study always smelled like pipe tobacco- that was Pappers for ya. Those afternoons were filled with me sitting on his knee listening to his stories about how the Jews put cameras in urinals. Or how the Jews created diabetes. Or how Jewish men menstruate. Or how the Jews control all the abortion clinics and harvest the dead fetuses to eat so that they could stay young forever. He used to always tell me, “there’s Jew warlocks out there that have been alive since the Middle Ages, surviving off nothing but the marrow of the dead fetuses of teenage whores.” What I’m trying to get at is that he really, really hated Jewish people.
I remember playing all sorts of games those afternoons. Chess, model cars, puzzles, M.A.S.H., truth or dare, spin-the-bottle, Big-Nosed Heeb, you name it. He had such a lively imagination for an old timer. Pappers’ favorite game was always “puppet show.” That’s when we would take turns inserting our hands, up to the wrist, into each other’s buttholes and pretending that we were puppet and puppeteer. He always enjoyed it a little more than I did- must have been a generational thing. I’m sure all those videos of our puppet shows are around here somewhere.
One of my fondest memories of Pappers were those weekend fishing trips as a kid. Yeah, sometimes he drank a little too much. Yeah, sometimes he’d shit himself and pass out for 6 hours. But we always had a memorable time on the lake. I remember the look of excitement he would get when his cork went under. “Fish on!” he’d shout and reel it in like he was 18 again. He’d pull that fish into the boat and proceed to grab it by the tail with both hands and hold it against his crotch like he had a big fat floppy fish dick. Sometimes he’d slap you in the mouth with it and say “suck my fish dick, suck my fish dick.” Then he would jerk off his fish dick, grunting like only a man jerking off a fish dick could. At the peak of his fish-gasm, he would scream at the top of his lungs and throw the fish back into the water as if he cummed his fish dick clean off. Then he’d say “Boy, looks like I cummed my fish dick clean off!” and put another worm on his line. Yep, those were the days.
Although he never got the chance, I think in his own way he was able to show us how important we all were to him. We’ll always have those memories of Pappers- memories of pipe tobacco, his fist in my ass, and getting slapped in the face with his fish cock. He’ll always have a special place in all of our hearts. I know he’ll always be in mine. Let’s just be thankful that we got the opportunity to know someone as loving, compassionate, anti-semitic and special as Leonardo Pudding Dickenson. Or simply…Pappers.