My favourite Bond George Lazenby with his tiny gun showing how confident about his penis size he is.
Stirred not shaken, milk one sugar, that's how I take my tea incase any of you weemen fancy yer chances and it had better not be weak, it should have properly 'drawn a man' as is said in the world of tea making.
After years of serving my cuntry in the army I grew bored with storming beaches and fighting the dreaded Hun so I put in an application form for Naval Intelligence as those guys did fuck all running with packs on.
I had to do an aptitude test which was very tricky, 'the cow goes m-- ?' I mean what are they looking for here? mad? if I was a cow getting wanked off by cold hands everyday at 4am to get my milk and then chopped up and sold to McDonalds I'd be mad.
I don't think I did too well at it because the instructor nearly pissed himself laughing but due to the war the high turn over for MI5 agents I got in.
There was this bloke named Ian phlegming , his grandfather was Scottish but the way he spoke you couldn't tell, a right toff a bit like Footeater over there on my links but without that sexy dangerous edge Mr Eater is famous for.
I was put into a unit called 30AU or 30 Assault Unit though phlegming nicknamed us "Red Indians" . We picked locks cracked safes and took candy from babies, we practiced various forms of unarmed combat such as Judo, Cluedo and Origami. I had many a wrestle in the parlor with a lead pipe and a paper swan. I am also skilled in the Israeli martial art Kav Maga , it went on to becoming Krav Maga when Kav got married he changed, he no longer wanted to go out drinking and womanizing giving us the lame excuse that he loved his wife or something equally strange.
We were all fitted for tuxedos and wrist watches that had magnets in them incase you dropped a load of pins or something and a length of piano wire that would cum out so you could garrote someone or cut the cheese, I'll tell ya this for free I'm always cutting the cheese but if there are ladies present I will say "excuse me" I'm not a fucking animal though after saying "excuse me" I will also say something like "good arse I thought you were dead " just because farts are always funny but not wet the ones of course.
If ya wanted to tell the time by that watch you were shit out of luck, for every handy spy tool we had we also had to have a real one too. I had an exploding fountain pen , poison laced cigarettes a lighter that turned into a hovercraft and spectacles that were not only a disguise but made me look smart. I was also fitted with emergency food rations in the form of edible underwear and had a bullet proof cod piece to protect the family jewels.
I was a little disappointed with the 7 shot Walther PPK handgun we were given but the fact that they let us drive fancy sports cars with ejector seats and machine guns that pop in and out of the body work and let us drink and gamble with our flash money made up for it.
We had procedure for doing everything back then, when I gave my name I had to say Knudsen, Old Knudsen and after everytime we had a bit of action we had to say something smart arse like "he had a lot of guts" or if they blew up "rest in pieces" our monthly report had to contain at least 17 quips or we wouldn't get 'quip pay' you'd get a bonus if you raised yer eyebrow while you said them. We were given a special operations code because of our deadliness. I was 008 that was just their way of getting around all the lawsuits that the 007 agents caused. I was licensed to thrash within an inch of their life (then if they died we couldn't get sued as it wasn't our fault) I was licensed to drive heavy machinery and I was licensed to use my overt sexual charm as a weapon, you may have noticed.
No I'm not a fucking waiter I'm a secret agent so go get yer own drink.
I often wondered why we walked about looking like waiters making sure everyone knew who we are. I suspect we were decoys for some other operations.
I've shagged hundreds of weemen for my cuntry, usually you worry about what STD she might give you or if you get her pregnant will she ever find you again but us spies have to worry about genitals coated with arsenic so you never go doon on a woman and if a woman doesn't want to go doon on you she must be an enemy spy, or a leezer, you see civvies don't have to think about this stuff.
After years of serving my cuntry in the army I grew bored with storming beaches and fighting the dreaded Hun so I put in an application form for Naval Intelligence as those guys did fuck all running with packs on.
I had to do an aptitude test which was very tricky, 'the cow goes m-- ?' I mean what are they looking for here? mad? if I was a cow getting wanked off by cold hands everyday at 4am to get my milk and then chopped up and sold to McDonalds I'd be mad.
I don't think I did too well at it because the instructor nearly pissed himself laughing but due to the war the high turn over for MI5 agents I got in.
There was this bloke named Ian phlegming , his grandfather was Scottish but the way he spoke you couldn't tell, a right toff a bit like Footeater over there on my links but without that sexy dangerous edge Mr Eater is famous for.
I was put into a unit called 30AU or 30 Assault Unit though phlegming nicknamed us "Red Indians" . We picked locks cracked safes and took candy from babies, we practiced various forms of unarmed combat such as Judo, Cluedo and Origami. I had many a wrestle in the parlor with a lead pipe and a paper swan. I am also skilled in the Israeli martial art Kav Maga , it went on to becoming Krav Maga when Kav got married he changed, he no longer wanted to go out drinking and womanizing giving us the lame excuse that he loved his wife or something equally strange.
We were all fitted for tuxedos and wrist watches that had magnets in them incase you dropped a load of pins or something and a length of piano wire that would cum out so you could garrote someone or cut the cheese, I'll tell ya this for free I'm always cutting the cheese but if there are ladies present I will say "excuse me" I'm not a fucking animal though after saying "excuse me" I will also say something like "good arse I thought you were dead " just because farts are always funny but not wet the ones of course.
If ya wanted to tell the time by that watch you were shit out of luck, for every handy spy tool we had we also had to have a real one too. I had an exploding fountain pen , poison laced cigarettes a lighter that turned into a hovercraft and spectacles that were not only a disguise but made me look smart. I was also fitted with emergency food rations in the form of edible underwear and had a bullet proof cod piece to protect the family jewels.
I was a little disappointed with the 7 shot Walther PPK handgun we were given but the fact that they let us drive fancy sports cars with ejector seats and machine guns that pop in and out of the body work and let us drink and gamble with our flash money made up for it.
We had procedure for doing everything back then, when I gave my name I had to say Knudsen, Old Knudsen and after everytime we had a bit of action we had to say something smart arse like "he had a lot of guts" or if they blew up "rest in pieces" our monthly report had to contain at least 17 quips or we wouldn't get 'quip pay' you'd get a bonus if you raised yer eyebrow while you said them. We were given a special operations code because of our deadliness. I was 008 that was just their way of getting around all the lawsuits that the 007 agents caused. I was licensed to thrash within an inch of their life (then if they died we couldn't get sued as it wasn't our fault) I was licensed to drive heavy machinery and I was licensed to use my overt sexual charm as a weapon, you may have noticed.
No I'm not a fucking waiter I'm a secret agent so go get yer own drink.
I often wondered why we walked about looking like waiters making sure everyone knew who we are. I suspect we were decoys for some other operations.
I've shagged hundreds of weemen for my cuntry, usually you worry about what STD she might give you or if you get her pregnant will she ever find you again but us spies have to worry about genitals coated with arsenic so you never go doon on a woman and if a woman doesn't want to go doon on you she must be an enemy spy, or a leezer, you see civvies don't have to think about this stuff.
22 comments:
I read somewhere that in 1954 the pope got caught cheating at canasta which in turn formed the basis of the plot for Goldfinger. Do you know anything about this?
Of course I know about it its a card game.
It was originally called Goldsphincter because the papal dildo is solid gold, it also contains the finger tip of saint Taig who was martyred because his eyes were too close together.
You're waaaaaaaaaaay sexier OBB! And just what size gun are you packin?
I think you may be right.
I pack a Browning High-power, its big and thick and being a browning means no babies.
WHEW! Relieved...don't need to go down that road again...I'm just now turning my nose back on!
Might have to show us your weapon one day Old K.
Daniel Craig? PAH!
You the man!
So debonair you are.
I believe I am about to swoon, Old Knudsen.
I used to dabble in a little espionage myself, though my main job was herding sheep. I was a shepherd spy.
ame anal sex is the only good thing to cum out of the catholic religion as I don't shoot blanks.
vic I have turned many people, will you be next?
(to turn means to disgust in my world)
dive doing it for the Queen, RIP Freddie Mercury.
janibelle if you swoon please clear it up, any nazis to insult let me know.
Mr Eater you make me groan more than a £10.00 hooker, very good.
Is that a gun in your pocket Old K or are you just pleased to see me? Oh the old ones are the best.
I didn't think you were talking to me after a certain Dirty Sanchez comment, some people forget the nature of the Devil when they invite him in.
Ah, course i'm talking to you Old K. Just been a bit... occupied this weekend ... We've shared so much together after all, the jaffas, the jarmies, the bathroom landing, the list is endless. Besides which, i didn't understand Dirty Sanchez. Yes, i'm that innocent. Please explain immediately (i'll still talk to you even then).
Hey, I love origami. I can make a mean frog--out of paper.
lynn even though I recently had a link in a post for all you sheltered people here you go.
click here
robyn but can you make a friendly frog?
"Judo, Cluedo and Origami. I had many a wrestle in the parlor with a lead pipe and a paper swan."
Too witty.
I knew I followed your blog for a reason.
Ah Samd, you commented a while back and I've seen you on other blogs but I didn't know you were a regular, excellent I like knowing who my peeps are. I am glad you are after my mind and not my body, considering yer job and its a nice change, weemen treat me like I'm a piece of meat to be lusted after.
You are! ;)
Ah i see. Well thank you, Old K, i feel...enlightened. If nothing else.
Now that one could go on the fridge.
Whatever happened to Lazenby? Did you know he's married to Pam Shriver? I wonder if she's related to the Shriver-Kennedys...
"...weemen treat me like I'm a piece of meat to be lusted after."
Well we can hardly be faulted for that, can we?
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