This is the belly of the Beast, or Susan to go by her real name, she claims this foot is my next to be born child, I'm not so sure as I don't even recognise her face but then again I went through this doggy style phase a while back, her hair looks familiar.
To make sure I'm Blog of note material I'm putting up the kind of post previous Blogs of notes would put up, I hope you have coffee at hand to help you stay awake.
This is little Damien, yet another pretender to the Knudsen name, maybe I should stop telling weemen I'm an eccentric millionaire .
Barry, Robin and Maurice, I met Jenny at a concert, can't remember who by.
Here is some grass I thought it might be interesting to document it growing, I will take another picture tomorrow to see the update, ohh goosebumps.
Here is my dog Sir Harry, this was just after attacking that slow and a bit chubby postman. I made the mistake of using a flash, wee cutie pie sure did some damage to my bitter balls, no more babies for me perhaps.
No I can't do this.
18th December is the day when Homos, Ladies and those like me on the Doon Low will be catered too on this Blog so stick around.
13 comments:
I'm not mainstream, either. Frankly, Blogs filled with puppies make me want to puke.
Thanks for puttin your fine lookin niece up there again. She has a nice smile.
lynn puppies, babies, kittens or what they had for dinner, oh and YouTubes.
Rich so nice of you to say so, she was asking me what kind of money you make a year and do you think shopping is a suitable hobby for a young lady?
You're asking for trouble, putting up a photo like that first one when you know there's someone called Foot Eater reading.
Blogger Beta is shit, by the way. I keep having to try several times to make the comments stick.
You are my blogging anti-hero, Knudsen.
Mr Eater I'm so glad you didn't use Mac meal eater as you were going to.
sassy sundry I suspect you want me. I don't mind.
As both a lady (loosely defined of course) and someone whose gate swings both ways, I'd like to take a moment to thank you for your catering to all of your audience.
You are a paragon of good taste.
Kisses to you from bo'fus.
I don't care which way yer gate swings, what I can't come to terms with is yer enjoyment of sciencey times, disgusting.
You are a paragon of good taste.
have you been drinking?
Science taught me to distill alcohol. Science taught me to make my own body oil. And science, good sir, brings you into my bedroom every day.
Only one of impeccable taste would ever be found in my bedroom. Your blog is in my bedroom daily. You write your blog.
Ergo, you have impeccable taste.
Mostly, I'm just sucking up so you'll dedicate an entire post to me.
:)
Kisses.
Science, doesn't exist and I'm not listening, na na na na na na na na.
I wouldn't know where to start with a post about you. I take it you won't press charges about me being in yer bedroom, anyway it was fairy glamour not science.
Of course I wouldn't Old Knudsen.
You were invited.
I'll wait 'til you know me better about the post.
playing hide and seek in my old posts indeed.
I'll get to know you better when some of those walls around you come doon and yes there is a wall of Science.
No walls, Old Knudsen. I'm an open book. You have to read the right page. A flower waiting to be plucked. You just have to look in the right field, that's all.
Kisses to you.
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