Tuesday, May 12, 2020

"FAKE NEWS"


BELIEVE IT OR KNOTT 

I am standing in my newly completed  monument in Cave Hill Cemetery, entitled "Father Knott: A Louisville Giant."  It will be dedicated when this carona virus pandemic is lifted or when hell freezes over - whichever comes first. 



 I have been offered the lead role in a new movie about Colonel Sanders called "Chicken Man: the Early Years." I have grown the beard and already passed the cholesterol test for grease in my arteries.  My contract promises "a bucket of chicken every day for life." My agent stipulated that it had to be "extra crispy," plus a side of biscuits and gravy. 


Very few people know that I was paid a fortune from 1975-1980 when I was a model for a Clairol hair-products commercial while serving as the first Catholic priest to live in Monticello, Kentucky. It was during those days that the rock musical "Hair," was composed about my years in Monticello and was first staged in Chicago.  


Two years ago, I personally discovered Amelia Earhart's plane wreckage, purse, cell phone and bleached bones on a secluded beach in the Caribbean after making a forced landing on one of the small deserted islands. I had to leave the plane wreckage, but her bones and cell phone are in her black purse that I carried from the crash scene. 


You can imagine my shock when Jerry Springer recently announced this on national TV in front of a live audience:
 "Father Knott, you are the Father!!!!!" 


When my eye doctor, Dr. Susan Smith, suggested that I might need a "blind date," I immediately agreed and answered "yes" thinking I knew what she meant! Silly me! She meant I needed an appointment for cataract surgery on both eyes!



When I was introduced to "His Holiness," I was still having problems with my cataract surgery. I thought it was the Pope offering to make me a Cardinal. I foolishly said, yes," only to find out that I was about to be named the Fifteenth Dalai Lama. Archbishop Kelly made me decline the offer, reminding me that I was not a Buddhist. I should have known it was a mistake because the present one is more than a year younger than me -- at that time too young to retire as the Fourteenth Dalai Lama! 


This was my second grade nun, Sister Mary Ancilla, who said to me, after I had flunked her Latin altar boy test for the third time, "Ronnie, you are a good kid, but I don't think you'll ever be any good around the altar!" I waited till I was ordained and almost retired, and she was in a wheel chair, to give her a dozen "squirting" red roses as a revenge joke! They sprayed her good! With water everywhere, we both laughed. I told her, "Sister, you're a good nun, but I don't think you'll ever be any good around the baptismal font!" 
We are now even! 

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