Monday, 30 June 2008

Cast Aside

I used my chest hair as floss and braided my pubes into ropes.

In the 70's I was a terrible young man getting into all manner of trouble, my father thought it was best that I went to sea for a while until all the babies were born and everything had calmed doon.

It was late in the year when I signed on to the 'Slocum' under Captain Dampier a cruel and idiotic man who liked to dine on rum and cold vomit mopped up with bread.

It was a trading ship bringing bibles to the heathens of South America and weapons to the European logging companies so I felt as if I was doing the Lard's work.

It was a sad and oppressive ship and my only friend was Dick, the bulimic cabin boy. The captain thought my friendship with Dick was unhealthy and so left me on an island alone with scant supplies.

On the beach as night fell I shivered with cold and fear as I could hear all manner of ungodly creatures inland howling and hooting and calling out names like " Beelzebub" and "Shake 'n' Vac" so I stayed close to a cave and talked to a tennis ball I had named 'Dunlop' he was a right cunt and kept trying to fiddle with me as I slept.

Soon the beach was full of Sea lions fornicating which isn't as sexy as you'd think so I headed in land.

It wasn't so bad I was able to make a hut complete with bay windows and a nice wee breakfast nook. My main meal was goats who I would eat after a week of dating. I was a young man and soon grew tired of their possessiveness and didn't really want to commit.

There were rats on the island who would attack me as I slept and so I tamed a couple of feral cats, 'Miss Sassy Lashes' and 'Eartha Kitty'.

I lived off wild turnips and cabbages along with the goat meat and milk, ach the gas was awful but it kept the mosquitos away, and the rats oh and me cats.

I had one book with me, The Holy Bible, fuck me I wish I had brought something readable a nice Dan Brown book you know something a bit more believable. At least I had some shite wipe, Mark didn't last long as I had the shits and Revelations had blood in it.

Two boats did pass my way but one was French and the other was Italian and I was way too pretty to go aboard those vessels so I hid like an altar boy at a priest convention.

After 4 years and 4 months HMS Weymouth found me, I was covered in goat skin and my English was almost unrecognisable so I had not really changed much.

Getting back to England I was paid handsomely for my story by the Daily Mail newspaper and married a 16 year-old milk maid named Sophia but the sea beckoned again and I signed onto the Mary Celeste a brigantine run by a Yank captian.

I kissed Sophia and her very hot sister goodbye and I went forth for more adventure but who gives a shit about that ? what about the time I was almost gang raped by a midget boy band in Turkey? now that was hairy.

Saturday, 28 June 2008

Out And About

If you see the Old Knudsen RV show me yer tits for a free t-shirt. Tits must be shown for a long enough period for Old Knudsen to have a happy ending.

Being a high profile blogger who is usually high on some form of pain medication I am well aware that everyone is out to get me.
No I'm not some paranoid freak when you have all this going on weemen want to do you and men want to be you and men also want to do you and weemen also want to change you and use oral sex as a motivational tool but that's another story.

I guess I would feel unloved if I wasn't constantly being stalked so I keep an eye on my surrounding at all times.
I went into an up-scale restaurant called 'Farmer Boys' yesterday for the first time. When I say up-scale I don't mean those ghey ones with waiters and table clothes, no offense to that silly cunt Manuel but really get a real job like digging ditches or something.

They give you a number to set on yer table and a woman does bring you yer food but they don't hang around like a bad smell for protection money known as a tip.

I ordered fish and chips, I asked what kind of fish it was and the cashier was surprised to hear that there was different types of fish.
Remember back in the day we'd call it Cod and chips or whatever it was but now its just 'fish' so I ordered it anyway cos what was I going to eat a burger with avo fucking cado on it or zuc fucking chini whatever that is?

When I'm out and about I do get a lot of 'fuck me' eyes from people but there was this one woman who was really making me feel uncomfortable enough to make me take my cap off and hide it in my coat.

I don't like to be watched when I eat and this lass was taking notes.

I couldn't eat half of my chips no it wasn't the gurl watching me it was because they didn't fucking peel them fucking lazy Americans get a Mexican in and pay them $1.00 an hour to peel yer fucking taters if I wanted my chips to taste like dirt I'd have ordered a fucking side of mud.

I also sent back my iced tea and told them to boil it and put some milk and sugar in it oh and it had a slice of lemon floating in it make sure nothing else falls into it.
I got the idiot looks I got at that sushi place when I complained about my fish being raw are they trying to give me semolina poisoning?

So anyway I left the restaurant noticing that the lass went over to my seat and started to sniff the place where I sat and was fighting the staff for my left overs and used cutlery. The mystery was soon solved when I went out into the car park and saw this.

Not a word of a lie I took this picture with my own wee camera. Its her.

Bloggers aren't the same as they describe themselves it seems, except for me what you see or read is what you get if yer lucky.
I learned my lesson when I went up north and visited First Nations and MJ boy did my preconceived ideas based on the pictures they sent me sure take a beating.

Not only are they not young female and hot but they don't wash.

Speaking of taking a beating. Ok its nearly the 4th July and woop de doo you beat the British by all means celebrate its not like you win many wars, two as far as I can tell and one of those was only because the French helped you. French loving losers.

Its a fucking week away stop it with the fire crackers, those of us that have served during war time are sick to death of diving to the floor every 5 minutes having flashbacks to Waterloo or Normandy all that crying ruins my mascara and makes my face all puffy so quit it you cunts.

The only blogger I want to meet is Mago here, maybe someday.

Thursday, 26 June 2008

Old Knudsen Considers The Penis

Keep it in the cage Hulky lad. I'm not a fan of bodybuilders or construction workers in general. Anyone that stands in front of a full length mirror to see their muscles ripple needs to get a life or a real gurlfriend.
Old Knudsen does have a fine set of guns on him but that's from years of digging ditches and working doon pit and I may like to watch my sexual technique in a mirror but that's different.

Men body builders want to look strong because they are afraid about their small willys and hate weemen anyway, weemen body builders just want to stop being weak females and want to be strong men, can't blame them now go put the kettle on for me love, 2 sugars ya sexy thing.

When I heard they wanted to remake the crappy Hulk film I sent in my screen play.
It was about Dr Bruce Banner who got painful 4 hour erections and rather than going to another doctor cos doctors are shite and he didn't have medical coverage (social message there) he zapped himself with Gamma radiation as you do and became a green body builder with a tiny knob.
The only problem being is that he was angry and being a body builder his reasoning power was sponsored by steroids.

Hulk angry but doesn't know why, must smash and look at my pecs while I do it.

He just wants to tie up white weemen so he can feel powerful.

See this lass doesn't work out and her knob is massive, its good to see such confidence.

Why are super heroes all muscular? when do they find the time to pump iron and is it a job requirement? I think a 100 LBS skinny dying fucker should be able to have super strength and be bullet proof.
Maybe lifting cars and throwing them at villains is a workout so you end up with muscles.
I always wondered how people in the comics don't suss out that so and so are super heroes as they have square jaws, thick hair and big muscles or the weemen are just a little too hot.

I wonder if Spiderman is hung like a spider and that's why he won't get it on with MJ, no not the blogger MJ shes into oiled up midgets anyway.

Instead of Batman and Robin it should be Batman and pitcher or giverman and takerboy, see the way Catwoman was baddie? weemen hating I tell you all due to bad sexual experiences with small cocks, trust me on that as I have a friend who was belittled by a woman when he whipped out his tiny curly wurly , no honestly it was a friend.

Wednesday, 25 June 2008

Prison, Work And Marriage .... Work At Yer Marriage Or It Becomes A Prison

I was sent an e-mail by some cunt that knows what annoys me, I'll tell you what that is. Prison guards getting paid more than teachers and prisoners not being executed right away with none of that appeal crap in order that they aren't a drain on society any more than they have already been.
If you support pedos and rapists then you pay for their up keep, food and medical expenses.

Here is a picture of a lovely building, a prison in Austria no less. I've stayed at hotels that have looked worse than this. Austria is the same as Germany right? well to me anyway so therefore the prison is probably full of Nazis and pedos because the last time I was over there that's what I found and the place couldn't have changed that much from the 1940's not going by the searches I get from there on my shite meter.

It almost makes you want to lock up yer daughter for 20 years and have 5 kids with her just to get in............... I said almost you sick fuckers.

I see the furniture is prison ghey.

In prison You spend the majority of your time in a 10X10 cell .

At work you spend the majority of your time in a 6X6 cubicle /office

In prison you get three meals a day fully paid for.
At work you get a break for one meal and You have to pay for it

In Prison you get time off for good behavior.
At work you get more work for Good behavior.
In prison the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you .
At work you must often carry a security card And open all the doors for yourself .
In prison you can watch TV and play games.
At work you could get fired for watching TV , playing games or reading this blog.
In prison you get your own toilet.
At work you have to share the toilet with some people who pee on the seat.......... guilty yer honour!
In prison they allow your family and friends to visit.
At work you aren't even supposed to speak to your family which is ok as yer family are right cunts.
In prison all expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required .
At work you get to pay all your expenses to go to work, and they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.

In prison you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.
At work you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.
In prison you must deal with sadistic wardens.
At work they are called managers.
You could then go on to talk about rough anal sex in the showers but that's comparing prison to marriage. I've had longer marriages than a fucking rapist would do time, not fair where is our time off for good behaviour?

The violence the bullying and the counting the days but hey that's enough about marriage I'm off to prison for some relaxation and a tan.
Now get back to work ya cunts I'm not paying you to read this crap, no really I'm not paying you.

Tuesday, 24 June 2008

The Love Therapist

When I came to Americky I didn't quit my job as a life coach for the Ohhmm well being clinic I was promoted to the job of 'Life consultant' spreading my wisdom and knowledge to the uninformed savages known as Americans.
My position is that of a Missionary I suppose giving it to the Yanks whether they want it or not but they sure do need it.

Me and my mucker Buddy have purchased and motorised home with his disability pension and a few bars of my Nazi gold.
I've always wanted to be like a hero on TV who travels from town to town solving crimes and shagging weemen with his pet monkey sidekick flinging poo in the name of justice for the under dog and so I decide to buy a motorhome to do so.

Buddy to be honest isn't all there, too much LCD in Nam and he has flashbacks to training the Taliban in Afghanistan to fight the Russians, a lot of opium going around it seems.
Back then he was known as a drugged out socially inept moron who was good at manipulating others to get what he wanted.
Then all the buzz word excuses for being thick came out and he was retired from the 'company' for being Bi-Polar with Aspergers and ADHD, they even said he was autistic which is a load of shite as the only thing he can draw is his pension.

My chum Buddy may not be the tastiest dog at the pound but once you get past all the paranoid accusations and make sure he takes his meds hes a decent enough fella.

He surprised me by getting a graphic put on the front of the RV the only thing is that hes a perfect example of the American education system, no offense to you idiot Yanks but when someone thinks that the Gettysburg address was where Lincoln lived and that the underground railway that smuggled slaves to the north actually had trains well he make me look intelligent, that's why I like Americky, I'm a hawk among crows.

I have to figure out how to change the graphic without hurting his feelings maybe I'll go for the "you mong approach" how can I get any action from vulnerable weemen with that on the front?
I may have to rethink the bumper sticker I have in mind, as my bed would be over the cab I was going to have a sticker that says " if the roof is a thumping Old Knudsen is a humping" classy huh?

Fuck, Piss, Cunt, Motherfucker, Cocksucker, Tits And Shit.

Seven words you expect to read on my blog.

Friday, 20 June 2008

Slippery When Wet

Ol Knudsen and Mananan in gay and happy times.

It all started way back in the mists of time, just before lunch I do believe. Olaf Knudsen the son of Lord Harold of Maud (which is in Denmark) and lady Agnes of Arbroath was on his way back after having discovered a great land mass to the west that he named Humpadingle which is an old Viking word for 'great land mass' or in some translations 'fuck I'm so very lost' this land was later to be named America after Christopher Columbus the famous detective.

Olaf or Ol Knudsen rowed his longboat (which was very long.........and thick) back across the Atlantic , his crew had long since died and gone into his belly which gave him the strength to single handedly row row row his boat.

A mighty storm pushed his boat onto some sharp and jagged rocks and Ol Knudsen was drown but the sea God Mananan pulled him out of the water and aboard his boat the Ocean sweeper breathing life into his body again.

Ol Knudsen had met many a god and demi god but liked the cut of Mananan's jib.

The two spent years adventuring trying to get all the magicial items in the world before Jason and his astronauts did (Chariots of the Gods?..... Erich Von Daniken) soon they had acquired many powerful objects and Ol Knudsen with his ring of elastic, his pork sword of a thousand rashers and his cap of time travel was lying on the deck with Mananan under a fleece that protected the wearer from STDs when Mananan asked an important question, " Does this g-string of lustfulness make my bum look fat?"

Ol Knudsen was tired after a long and painful keel haul that had blood in it and paused for a brief second then said, "no yer arse makes yer arse look big."

The couple fought (not really a couple its an expression) then parted ways, Mananan got to keep the puppy of no poops and the boat.

Ol Knudsen found himself on the east coast of Ulster (Northern Ireland to you Yanks) where he met and fell in love with a beautiful (a matter of perspective) bare knuckle fighter named Gertrude.

It was a volatile relationship with violent knock doon fights but Ol Knudsen could take a good punch.

One day Ol Knudsen realised he was out of time, as a parting piece of revenge Mananan had sent him back into the past using Ol Knudsen's cap.

Angered Ol Knudsen packed up his family (with Gertrude heavily pregnant) into their Ford Coracle and paddled off to the Isle of Man to confront the cheeky sea god.

Mananan who didn't like confrontations sent a storm to drown them in a passive aggressive move but softened when Gertrude's water broke and he went to their aid and helped deliver the baby soon all was forgiven, they even had a good laugh when Mananan told them that Harold and Agnes were only sort of his real parents and that the baby was Ol Knudsen and that he was his own father and so he was a mother fucker.

Ol Knudsen likes a good joke and so all was well besides all that time travel stuff really bends his shite and who can work out what a pairofdocks is? chicken and the egg bollocks that hurts yer brain.
A mermaid, this is sushi I wouldn't turn me nose up at. They have an excuse for their parts smelling like rotten fish whats yer excuse weemen?

Mananan sent his merfolk to tow the coracle to land which turned out to be beautiful Scotland and Ol Knudsen settled doon with his family, he never really warmed to his son which was him because they were too much alike but did pass on the cap along with a piece of his wisdom, " Curry flavours the bald."

Yes I am Ol or Old Knudsen and I live my life by that saying. Mananan keeps in touch at Christmas time and birthdays but obsolete pagan gods really have it rough with all these violent gods of love about.

Monday, 16 June 2008

I Haven't Gone Away You Know

I'm looking into buying a motorhome like this one as having a shite in yer vehicle sounds rather fun.

Here is where I do that thing that everyone else does. I go walk about for a while. Yes I realise in doing so that many people will stop checking in to see if I return or not of course you could just sign up on my feedburner on the sidebar and get any posts in yer mail.

I've been blogging since 2006 and have had a fine old time, maybe I've said all that I want to or maybe I just can't be arsed anymore. I hope I've made you laugh a little and maybe boak a bit, if you were offended then good I'm an artist and invoking emotions is my thing, I just hope I've made some people think and that you just didn't miss my points to look at the tits.

I have too little time at the mo to blog and am failing in visiting all yer blogs due to that little time and my dial-up connection, I'm a victim of my own success which is why I still like my news blog. I re-work stories that are out there and treat it like a real news site therefore I don't comment, well ok I may do the odd anonymous comment but there is no pressure to reply with a witty quip as I'm trying to get a job as a professional news cunter.

I'll post on my various blogs when I feel like it, time to blog for myself and if anyone wants to read and keep up then fair play each blog is a different mood for me like, "hmm what will I eat for dinner chips and peas or chips and beans?"

One last thing. If you need a psychic healer to help you or to give you a reading I can totally vouch for Witchypoo.
She can do it over the web or phone and gave me proof of her abilities by being right twice against the odds. Go to her website and purchase her purple plates. I was skeptical at the pseudo science explanation about them but she swears by them and I trust her Mojo.

I got a disk and a plate and put the plate under my pillow, not really expecting much but on the first night I got the best deep sleep I've had in years and I've generally just felt better. Another person I know who slept with one under their pillow had a dream that addressed his issues about not being hugged enough as a child but since his parents have long gone he never healed. He had a dream in which he talked to his parents and told them all the things he wish he could have said to them and got closure.
I called him a pussy and have since stopped him from watching Oprah.

This is supposed to be a palm tree but it reminded me of something else, don't eat here.

My penis has not gotten bigger due to the plates its still a measly 12 inches long but my leg that was bitten off by a Great white panda grew back ...................... which was nice.

I'll be about on the Internet and on my blogs a little but this one I'll be taking a break, click off to another blog for yer fun I have the ideas but not the will.

Oh c'mon if you can't find humour in a big wiener deal then there is something wrong with you.

Saturday, 14 June 2008

Pimp Up Yer Cunt

Islamic Idol, "Am a maze i ing he ing ger ace a ace how ow ow say weet we et the hu huh huh say ound e ound" I swear Amazing Grace didn't have so many syllables, and you call that singing, that's pathetic.

Wha wha wha! where is Old Knudsen with my daily dose of clap and humour? well according to my shite meter no one cares anyway must be coming into summer.

C'mon people when the greatest blogger in the world gets less than a hundred hits that means either hes lost his edge or his readers got lives. I'm more inclined to think I've lost my edge as my readers are such sad pathetic cunts............. no offense.

Little did I know that moving to the land of the fat and the home of the poorly educated would employment opportunities open up so readily.

I can't say much about my work as its highly classified, all I can say is that the president himself Dick Cheny sent me to Guantánamo Bay to torture er I mean question the prisoners, I left on a secret flight by black helicopter to a special ops airport in San Diego under the command of Colonel Josh Williams to fly by red and white aeroplane to Cuba.

Sorry I can't give you details about my work but it would be way too dangerous for you.

Silly cunts they pray to Mecca 5 times a day and still don't know where it is.

Guantánamo Bay is a lovely place by the sea. I think people only want to close it out of jealousy because they can't live in a tropical paradise so why should the ragheads?

Lets use the human rights argument, yeah yeah and pedos have human rights too 'BOOM' yer argument has just shown you up as a pedo terrorist lover and no friend of mine.

Support the troops, give a yank a yank.
I heard all the same silly things during the Boer war when the British set up concentration camps for the families of the Boers who didn't like British rule in order to force them to surrender yawn yawn yawn, just look at South Africa now full of blacks hacking each other to death with machetes and burning each other to death with tires.

I want to know one thing, in South Africa there is violence against immigrants from countries like Zimbabwe and the Congo, they are killing them there, what I want to know is how can they tell the foreigners apart? they all look the same.

Africa, America, Northern Ireland see what happens when you kick the British troops out? crime goes up and education goes doon.

On the whole people still like the British mostly because we brought civilisation to a quarter of the world who didn't appreciate it but also because people think the Brits are quirky people who drink tea and wear funny hats, hey fuck face don't sit there looking at my avatar go put the fucking kettle on and I'm Ulster/Scots, I'm only British to you cunts that don't know a thing about my culture and I'm tired of explaining it, go read a book or something .

Why honour the human rights of the Sand savages at Guantánamo Bay ? are they actually human? look what happened when the blacks had their human rights recognised, they blame whitey and eat BBQ chicken and cause crime, at least before they had work and we had cheap cotton and servants.

Remember the blacks never believed or cared much for weemen's rights and going by the way they treat their bitches and hos now they still don't.

You have the right to remain hot! I love weemen, have I mentioned that before? oh fer yer minds and intellect.

So the blacks were allowed to vote and then white weemen are allowed such rights too, look how the gurls re-pay us, they stop faking orgasms and just tell us er you that yer crap and won't suck yer willy anymore because they got what they wanted.

I don't mind paying for whatever but I just miss the old days .

Don't get me wrong I'm not racist or sexist I just want my willy treated like an ice cream cone before it melts and for black people to pull up their trousers and stop being so loud and fucking vulgar. Not much to ask for now is it?

So anyway getting back to my job that I can't talk about those sand niggers at Guantánamo Bay all say they are innocent but give them a sword and an infidel and they will convert you to Islam.

After I'm finished with them they are lucky if they can hold swords, the first rule of don't talk about it , the second rule of torture.......... you call it interrogation, the third rule of torture......... earn yer pay and be professional, theres nothing as bad as someone doing their job half arsed.

Fair weather friends, otherwise known as politicians. Oh I'll talk to Iran ok, I'll tell them to fuck off!

I say keep Guantánamo Bay open and in 100 years or so let some ragheads open up casinos to keep them happy.
If you close Guantánamo Bay you let the terrorists win and why appease them when you should be nuking them? unless you like terrorists that is and are therefore unpatriotic, you cunts! go vote for Obama why don't you for yer hope, change and other vague things, at least with McCain you know what yer getting.

As a white Christian male with at least 4 years of schooling under his belt I see nothing wrong at Guantánamo Bay and at $12 an hour I'll question yer ma with electric nipple clamps (I'd do that for free, yer ma is hot) so don't go judging and handing out human rights, next you'll want Osama to get a fair trial and what happens when he hires expensive lawyers and gets off with it?

If you believe in fairies, the loch Ness monster and that yer vote matters then yer a mong, go read 'The Secret' and buy Al Gore's film.

Just stand back and let us do our jobs, go sort out Global warming or something. I looked up Global warming on and guess what? its a load of old bollocks, slap yerself you idiot hippy types.

If you cum here looking for new funny posts every day well you pay me for fuck all so go read the old posts you didn't bother to read before theres well over 2000 so get busy, I ain't yer monkey boy.

Thursday, 12 June 2008

The Shame

Old Knudsen is ashamed. I fell for the sins of the flesh and now I am being punished for it. Weemen do indeed want to sex me up just for the fame of it and yes it does swell my ego among other things.
I spent a day frolicking with Sylvia from Arbroath, I thought she was a nice gurl with a bag full of sex toys and a cam corder and yes I know what you are thinking 'Arbroath' the home of the smoked kipper if you know what I mean. Dirty weemen, shaved sheep and BMX bandits........ I have no idea what that means either.

Sylvia has now released her story in the papers along with the YouTube of the action on the Interweb. First I must say that it was a cold day and its usually bigger and *I had not had sex in a day * which was why it was so fast.

I feel like the camera angle was all bad for me and my face looked fat and did my nose look big? ach I beg you all not to go looking for this YouTube as I don't think it gives a true representation of who I am.

This is who I am, no I'm not ghey I'm just a movie fan. Ever see Wedding Crashers? fucking brilliant .

* My mother was out*

Wednesday, 11 June 2008

Webby The Wise One

"Hoots mon a creepy critter." translation from Scots gheylick of what he said.

I am here in America because of religious persecution and a left wing government that doesn't respect my right to human sacrifice luckily the Bush admin and the next McCain admin welcome people like me as the cuntry is full of nutters and crazy town religions.

Today I found myself lost and without hope, also I was sitting in a cave hiding from would be assassins and Jovohva Witnesses in flowery dresses who can be talked into joining any sect or cult if you could be bothered.

I saw a spider trying to build it's web but with each gust of wind it was broken but that wee creature never gave up.
I was reminded of the story of The great king of Scotland Robert the Bruce who was hiding on Rathlin island just off the coast of Northern Ireland.
Robert the Bruce was ahead of his time which was 1274 - 1329, he was politically astute and knew when to fight and when to hide in a cave .
He was always telling wee stories that involved spiders or Kung-fu fighting pandas, he got some mileage out of the spider story and there would be a lot of eye rolling as soon as he mentioned 'Webby the spider'.

Six times did the spider repair it's web just like the six times the English had beaten his army and on the seventh it succeeded in making it's web so Mr The Bruce said that he would try again and succeed and he did, sure it was 13 years after his exile but he made it.
Yep 13 long years of hearing about that fucking spider.

I sat in my dark, dank and dismal cave watching this determined wee creature building its web and sure enough on the 7th try it managed to build it's web then I splatted it with my wooden leg.
Stupid wee cunt did ya not know I was going to kill ya? what the fuck do spiders know anyway?

"Kill the hoors, kill the hoors."

Then I thought about Robert the Bruce and what he had learned from his spider:

"If at first you don't succeed then go kill some evil English."

Ah wise words, what would others do?

The CIA: "If at first you don't succeed deny everything and destroy all evidence."

Bloggers: "If at first you don't succeed just say Blogger ate yer post."

Men: "If at first you don't succeed get her drunk."

Weemen: "If at first you don't succeed nag nag nag."

Crap Actors: "If at first you don't succeed live for a long time and you'll get a lifetime achievement Oscar."

George Bush: "If at first you don't succeed point and say 'look a terrorist' and run."

The Chinese: "If at first you don't succeed export poisoned rice."

Great Britain: "If at first you don't succeed blame France."

America: "If at first you don't succeed its because you cut back on health and education."

Johnny Black Fella: "If at first you don't succeed blame whitey then steal his telly."

Al Gore: "If at first you don't succeed copy Micheal Moore."

I could go on but why should I try and try again? sorry that must be the depression talking lucky Robert the Bruce didn't throw up his hands and say "whats the point I'm fat and no one likes me".

I do think its a little unnerving that spiders have such influence on history and the actions of leaders, somewhere safely out of sight of my rifle on the Pakistan border is Osama Bin Laden (three names too) talking to Webby and hatching some diabolical plan to become king in the year 2014 thank fuck the world will end in 2012 according to the dead Mayans.

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Monday, 9 June 2008

When I Wipe Theres Blood

Today I would like you to bond with Old Knudsen, put a smile on yer face and cheerfully proclaim "When I wipe theres blood" to someone.

I have anal fissures , I have anal fishers. Have I gone mad? What year is it? 2008? you fools you killed us all its a madhoose!

Maybe its just me but I can't imagine movie stars like Marilyn Munroe or Cary Grant having a hot steamy dump or even just farting but I suppose they do/did.
I bet Steven Seagull after a bucket of chicken can rip off a few he would be proud of but he lacks mystery and substance and isn't really a star.

Farts are funny except when one of my co-workers at a job I had years ago would drop one.
He was a big lad with plenty of protein in his diet, what he would do was stand in the door-way of the tiny office we would be in and let off a silent but deadly canary killer of a fart that would give you symptoms similar to what I'd imagine Ebola victims suffer and with him in the door-way climbing out the window in a desperate escape for air and perhaps falling 20 feet and breaking yer neck was a viable option.

He'd also walk up to you and talk until the stench hit you. He was quite popular with the ladies though I suspect he used his death stench as a date rape gas.

Kathy Lloyd a favourite page 3 model from the Sun, here with her evil twin.

I was looking at the fine British news tabloid 'The Sun' and saw a story about a pretty young lass whose sex life was ruined because she had IBS and farted a lot.

What kind of man would be put off by that? She must date men who are on the cusp of turning ghey.

What man doesn't let off a string of cheek sneaks while pumping away? its a part of our charm for fucks sake.

I do salute the young lady Lindsay Best for talking about farting and sex as its a nice change from crackhoor singers failing rehab.

In my prime I was a magnificent gas bag, I'd fart on command and when I least expected it but always had the good grace to laugh at the discomfort of others.
An elevator or lift as the Americans call it is a fine place to conduct stinky business, a captive audience.

While we're on the subject of idiot Americans who don't speak proper they call an arse an ass which is a donkey or they call it a fanny when we all know that a fanny is a cunt or a vadge, no wonder the yanks are so sexually frustrated I put it doon to having their foreskins lobed off as babies but its because they don't know where to stick their willys and the weemen don't know what proper intact man tackle should look like, thank fuck for all those illegal aliens for they are America's future.

Its funny how you go into a restroom not for a rest but for a pish and while yer standing at the urinal you always let off a big fart as someone walks by, sometimes I believe those cartoons where tiny wee men are in my head controlling my body because if I was one of them I would certainly fart around for a laugh.

A bum and therefore relevant to this post. Yanks would call a tramp or wino a bum which confuses the whole anal sex issue.
I have no idea where this post is going but stay with me like a sticky shite that refuses to be wiped away just before you have to go out.

People go on about dogs and how they can sense an earthquake before it happens or can smell cancer in a person's body, I've never looked at a dog happily munching away on cat shite and thought 'ah there is much we can learn from such a noble beast.'

Sunday, 8 June 2008

The Crazy Ghey Phone Stalker

"Who are you wearing?"
I watch the red carpet shite at the Oscars even though I'm straight if anyone asks and it bugs me when the question is always "who are you wearing?" I want some big star who is confident in themselves to turn up wearing something off the rack in fact I saw suits being sold in Wal-Mart the other day, wouldn't it be great it Clooney with his smug I can charm any woman I want by just a wobble of his head grin to say "Wal-Mart!" I'm sure the Chinese make great suits.

I had phone sex the other night so my answering machine is a bit violated and wonky but if you tap out yer message in Morse code I should be able to get it. By the way phone sex and even cyber sex is shite as the stuff they make these days can't take a good pounding but hey I cum.

Oh and if you read this blog yer computer may get a virus as I've had a weeping sore on me bell end (not Dell end) for about a week now.

Saturday, 7 June 2008

Birthday Hoors

Today it seems that dirty, pervy , hornivores types that think they are so hot all have their birthdays so today is 'International full of yerself birthday day'.

No my birthday has already been so nice try.

Prince is a dirty wee Jovohva witness singer type who wears high heels, gurly make-up and pretends to fuck the stage when hes sings those sinful songs full of smut and filth. He is 54 today. I got sick of the wee shite 20 years ago but he hangs around like a fart in a phone box.

Tom Jones is Welsh, that's enough sin and burden for anyone but this cunt flaunts it. I know for a fact that he packs his trousers with rolled up socks cos I gave him the idea. Jones is 87 today.

Dave Navarro is a poofy guitar player who hangs around with other skinny dying fuckers who sprinkle cocaine on to their cornflakes and think lunch is a bottle of J.D. (yes I'm jealous) he tried to be cool but has since appeared in a Puff Daddy/diddy/doddy video and had his own reality show, yes he is now a media hoor, he is 48 today.

Morris Blackstaff is a famous porn star from such movies like 'Animal rights/animal wrongs' and 'Yer ma loved it.' At a premier of one of his films he was to shake hands with the Queen but instead he feed his long dong through his jacket sleeve and she shook his penis, since then he has been on my hit list, yes Mr Blacstaff yer end will cum at my hands, he is 56 today.

Liam Neeson from Ballymena, Northern Ireland a town where Old Knudsen used to reside is a Fenian cocksucker who refused the keys to the city only because its full of bitter Protestants who hated him when he lived there and still do, where is the love Mr Neeson? you don't deserve such an honour. A crappy actor who doesn't do accents because he can't, like Sean Connery but shite.

Neeson is 63 today and hates puppies.

Wednesday, 4 June 2008

Welcome To An Episode Of

Conversations with my penis

"Whose a brave little soldier? its you, oh yes it is oh yes it is. Stand to attention for Daddy c'mon boy you can do it, oh yes you can my little mansy wamsy."

Tuesday, 3 June 2008


My good friend Billy one ear was supposed to travel from Killamory to Callyfornia this week and we were going to ingest lots of alcohol and get into fights etc.
Bloody hard to get into a fight over here the men puff up their chests, shout and swear at you but if you indicate that a fight is fine with you they look at you shocked as if you aren't playing the game right and back off.

I've got way too much testosterone for this cuntry.

I was crushed when Billy found out he was on a 'no fly list' due to drunken behaviour and saying the words 'bomb' and 'Allah' .
What was I to do? Well I got a train into LA as its always been my dream to urinate on the Hollywood walk of fame, Clark Gable got most of it.

I then went to a Hollywood eatery to see if I could see any famous people, lucky I still had some of my KFC bargain bucket as the food was pricey in there. No famous people but I did see yer lass Jennifer Aniston.

I'm not too attracted to her to be honest I may have watched Friends once or twice but I liked Chandler and the Fonz in it I think the weemen were mingers.
I did look whenever Jen's nipples poked through her top but that was about it.

I sat there on the patio while she lit up yet another Marlboro lite, she noticed me right off and her nipples suddenly poked out like corks .
I hadn't shot my load for a day maybe two so I said 'what the fuck?' to myself and turned on the charm, " do you mind if I eat while you smoke?" I asked dripping of grease and old Scottish sex appeal, she giggled and said she loved my accent and said she had been to Ireland.

I rolled my eyes and told her I was mostly Scottish and that I may have a quarter pounder with cheese but I was not from the McDonald's clan.

The weemen love that one, she shared my bargain bucket and ordered so wine, fuck this was way too easy I was starting to lose interest, she announced to me that she needed to go to the little girl's room for a pish and when she rose I checked out her arse, yes she did have some junk in the trunk this may not be a total waste of time after all.

She was too tipsy to drive her SUV hybrid so I had a go. I don't have a drivers licence but most Yank cars are idiot cars that are automatic so it was like driving a big bumper car. Nay probs except a load of stupid bastards were driving on the wrong side of the road.

We got to her Hollywood hills home which was very nice I must say, a little messy with pictures of Brad and Angie with their eyes cut out lying all over the place, there was also a lot of pills scattered about on the mirrored table so I nabbed some in case they were some good stuff, I bet they turn out to be stool softeners ah well I need it.

We staggered upstairs she wanted to kiss me I closed my eyes and thought of Sophia Loren.

We ripped our clothes off and I took her doggy style, it was over fast and at least I came which was the point. She wanted to go again but I said no she could squeeze out a hot lunch onto my chest and take pictures for my blog but that was it.

Then I said I'd shag her if she had a paper bag for her head, plastic would do .

I don't understand weemen sometimes as she got very angry (must have been her period) and she demanded I left, "But I haven't had a cup of tea yet" was my reasonable reply but Yanks are coffee drinkers and she didn't understand.

I strapped my wooden leg back on and I left, I would have taken the SUV but the engine had flooded when I mis-took the go pedal for the stop pedal and drove it into her swimming pool .

You live and learn, now I totally get it why Brad dumped her, ugly and crap in bed, I bet Angelina is hot stuff in the sack.