Being an operative for 'The Company' say no more say no more I have my snitches, bitches and slags all over the world.
Let me introduce you to 'Deep Toot' which is not his or her real name of course. Deep Toot keeps me up to date on the movements of top U.N. officials as he or she likes to hang around the restrooms, also on other stuff as he or she gets bored easily, ADHD I suspect.
He or she wrote to me this:
I entered Old Bitter Balls on http://www.oneplusyou.com/q/v/blog_cuss and it said 41.7% of the pages had cussing. That is 317% MORE than other websites that took the test.
I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or give you some shite for slacking.
For that last remark expect to receive some deadly Tampax in the mail.
As for my score, fuck shit piss wank cunt and what are you looking at bastard face? that score really cracks my tits and leaves a brown stain on my permanent record.
I once rode a fucking horse to catch a moving fucking cunty train, then I leapt from the horse (I rode bare back equestrian style) and beat a Nazi spy who was carrying microfilm in his left ball to death with my bare fists and ate his body raw to conceal the evidence, I didn't eat his face instead I wore that as a disguise until our train reached neutral Swaziland and then I attended a convention in Geneva passing on my microfilm in a passionate kiss to a beautiful French agent called Fifi and the cunts at The Company neglected to mention that I forgot to clock back in after me break, that made me madder than a priest on a desert island full of young gurls.
No one ever looks after the spies or covert operatives as we prefer to be called. When I worked for British MFI we had to supply our own lunches, one time I got into trouble for not following a chappy because I had just ordered me burger and no fucking way was I going to be out money for those bastards . I was asked by the head of MFI whose codename was '@' if I had an attitude problem so I said " whats it to you, you baldy cunt?" thats when I got assigned to Turkey fuck I hate Turkey, I used to like it but now I only eat chicken, the bird flu doesn't scare me if me drumstick sneezes then I don't eat it, I knew a lass who liked to be fucked with a frozen drum stick which was a pity as I was the lead singer and not the drummer.
Turkey is known as a moderate Muslim cuntry, is that like a moderate drinker? I see moderate drinkers as people who can't commit to going all the way and getting totally off their faces and so are not to be trusted, when I drink I become a totally different person, I become the 'Fart Knocker' I fight crime and people who I think are giving me a dirty look and have the power of spew which blinds or revolts my opponent. I am also a great dancer, a better driver and brilliant in bed, more so than normal even though I cannot drive, well sober anyway.
I have a confession to make, snails like to come out into my garden at night and what I like to do is walk around in the dark crunching their shells underfoot, am I the only one who enjoys this past time?
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Tuesday, 22 July 2008
The Lie Game
oldknudsen@gmail.com Old Knudsen
Labels: Backstreet boys, buttered cats, cunt.
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9 comments:
Your cuss rating has dropped to 38.8% as of this morning. You'll have to try harder.
You're hotter than Brad and he knows it.
He fears your power to take Angelina away from him.
But then again, he's sick of all those brats underfoot like so many snails in the garden.
Snail-stomping garden dictators!
crunch, crunch.
PETA will be after you.
i only like to it barefoot... feel the true power of death better that way...
btw, i scored 86 percent on the cuss-o-meter...
ah fuck, no i didnt. only 83.7%
*wanders off wondering what happened*
I think Pitt should start blurring his face, too. You may be on to something.
it is also good to leave beer for the slugs; they drown in pleasure.
Perhaps the power of spew would work on the snails as well. You like beer, but it makes you spew. Snails like beer, but it kills them. So you drink the beer, spew in the back garden - everyone's happy!
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