Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Of Course I Can Speak Arabic

I still have CIA clearance if anyone wants to use it for the staff discount.

Old Knudsen pretends this blog is satire in order to slag off fuckers poke gentle fun at people and to leak classified secrets in the hopes that you sheeple will wake up and see that airplane fuel doesn't melt steel beams and that Trump is werking for the Hillary campaign. Oh and that the Jews run everything except Christmas and the EU which is run by the Illuminati obviously. 

A few years back Old Knudsen was in Callyfornia working in hangar 42 at Edward's air force base. Hangar 42 doesn't exist, that's a clever rouse because it was really Hangar 37 which is very top secret, tremendously top secret almost definitely a total secret. It doesn't even have a number painted onto it.

Aye the taxi drivers that took me to werk kept getting lost, well what could you expect they were mostly immigrants from some Middle eastern cuntry or something. You'd think they'd never seen airplanes the way they kept taking pictures of everything.

Anyways I was never there teaching Arabic to Navy SEAL's and other people that had an interest in learning to speak sand savage.
I really couldn't speak Arabic but I had put it on my resume and wasn't going to let those fuckers make me back down so I had to see it through. Who hasn't been there?

It's amazing how clueless westerners are with Arabic I was rattling off all sorts of shite and they were rushing to write it all down. Alect ha ba shake n vac .....  means I am not a western spy.

I went on a bender that lasted hours. 

It was there I got news of my father's passing and this time it wasn't the family boasting about him passing large Elvis like bowel movements. I got an e-mail from my evil older brother Lars.

Cause of death was aeronautic asphyxiation. He was test piloting a new jet fighter for the ministry of defense with a belt around while having a danger wank, he must have jerked off his joystick as he smashed into the ground in a ball of fire near Bromley.

That was the cause of death. My job was too important to leave for the funeral which was held in a pub since he had already been cremated in the wreck and his ashes blown out to sea by tropical storm Tommy. No fuss and barely any effort, he would have wanted that.

I just did an e-mail to me family and put CC on it so everyone would get it. I said 'Sorry for yer loss, move on. Best Wishes Soren.'   

Yeah I poured my heart out and since only two of my family can even use a computer it didn't reach a wide audience.

The replies I got was 'who are you?' and 'what? .... why are you e-mailing me you cunt? Best Wishes Lars.'

I accepted the e-mail of course though wondered why they'd let a 304 year-old that drove doon the middle of the road in his car into a 22 million pound jet and who the fuck gave him a belt? He wasn't allowed shoe laces and nearly hanged himself with his neck tie at one of my weddings. Clumsy, not suicidal. Me Ma had to get vertical window blinds cos he kept getting trapped in the venetian blinds.

I just got werd from an old asset that the whole test pilot thing was a massive and very clever cover up and now I suspect that SG-19 had Da Knudsen killed because he knew too much. Lars didn't even bother to e-mail me when Da died hence his confusion, I thought it was the crack.

It's true, Da Knudsen did know a lot, he could have won Jeopardy or Mastermind. Now Old Knudsen has to hunt down and kill those responsible .... ah fuck it, I'll just have a few jelly doughnuts.   

None of those I taught Arabic to seemed to have paid any attention as they are all dead now, what a bunch of losers.  

As the Ragheads say "Allo acklebar" which means loosely translated means 'fuck you paleface.'


k said...

يمكنك جعل لي ساندويتش أو
تعطيني دونات ؟

Old Knudsen said...

Aye but not on Thursdays.