Showing posts with label James Bond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Bond. Show all posts

Monday, 29 February 2016

Quantum Of A Spectre Fall Royale

 
 Those vamps posed a real threat with their chiseled features.

I just cleaned out a nest of vamps north of Charleston when I got the call. J texted me that my cuntry needed me in Monte Carlo to stop a top secret organisation that only the Illuminati knew about called Spectre.
I got into my 1953 Aston Martin silver stingray viper limited edition and sighed a weary sigh. I felt drained, literally. After the last vamp nest in which the stakes I bought off Amazon that turned out to be formica went terrible wrong I chose to use biological weapons this time.

I worked in a Kindergarten for a week and got the man-flu from those wee germ factories. When they start requiring background checks to buy guns and to work with children I'll be snookered, until then I shall exploit the apathy of the law.

I let the vamps feed off me and watched as the man-flu instantly ravaged their bodies, turning them to dust. Luckily Old Knudsen is tough because man-flu is far worse than baby pains, trust me on that.

I took off down the road at speed and needed to blast out some rock music to wake me up. I almost hit the ejaculation button, that could have been messy. I don't know what the boffins put into that goop but when it sprays out it incapacitates you in a sticky mess, they shouldn't put that button so close to the radio.

 "I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word"    

I love this song, turn that bad boy up!  
 
"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing, Roman cavalry choirs are singing"
You know what Romans aren't famous for? ... cavalry choirs, what the fuck? Sounds a bit Welsh to me. Not that I have anything against the Welsh though they revolt and disgust me. I knew this Welsh pediatrician that told me about the sick things he'd do to kids, turned out that it was baby goats which is even worse. 

I sped off into the night, it was a long drive to Monte Carlo. 


He's the man-yan .... he'll bust throught your back door, call your mother a whore .... all in the name of the Quee-eeeennnn. 

Leave no one alive maybe scratch at his hives for his unseasonal allergies of justice and pain.

The self destructing mannnnnnn, he'll do what he cannnnnnnn, cos he's the mannnnnnn, this song is so lonnnnnggggggg, oh so lonnnnnggggggg.


He'll kill you with his donnnnnggggggg ..... everyone wants his donnnnnggggggg.

The man with the cap and a blog, he'll fuck your dogggggg.  Blah blah blah blah, when will the fucking movie start? Will there be anything newwww? Maybe sex with a stewwww, Irish stewwww.

 
While the rest of the UK is hit with austerity the 005 program's spending goes up, like the cost of keeping the royal family keeps going up. I slipped into my expensive tux and grabbed a few grand from my car's on board ATM.
Monte Carlo wasn't very busy, in fact all of Vegas was feeling the pinch. The Riviera had closed, things were tough. I wondered why J sent me here, the last I heard was about a deal going down in Monaco, ah well here I was, I shall trust that J knows his job.

Being a spy I'm trained to blend in and to be quite unremarkable that people barely even register me. "Ah Mister Knudsen!" proclaimed a chubby balding man, the manager I think, "It's great to see you again, I hope you'll be keeping your clothes on you tonight" he laughed nervously so I told him to fuck off ...  as I do.
I ordered a drink at the bar, "Crème de menthe, shaken not stirred, and make it dirty" after the bar tender shook and spat into my drink I surveyed the room, taking note of all exits and potential threats including a wet floor that didn't have a caution cone on it and a fire door that was propped open. 

A slender woman passed by, I called out to her that she had a nice rack .... she was carrying a chip rack. She was a teller about to begin her shift so I played a few hands of snap at her table then I pumped her for information.
The shelves of the janitor's supply room rattled as I pumped her for info, her cat (Mr Pickles) had just died  that week and she had broken up with her fiancee (Paul) who was cheating on her and she had slight discomfort while peeing .... not the info I was after. I shot my load making that double 'O' face that millions of men, weemen and domestic pets had seen ... ask yer Ma about it. 

"I love you Soren"   

Yeah I had just met her, I get this a lot. I said "look, this would never work out as I'm like a wine taster of the flesh, also I'm a secret agent werking for SG-19 which is an ultra secret branch of British Intelligence that no one knows about. Our werlds are too different and chances are that you'll probably die tonight, any chance of a cup of tae love?" 

She took it well .... took the bad news well too. Didn't get my cuppa though.

I walked back onto the gaming floor and then I saw him.


Phill Spector! I thought he was in prison for killing blondes. It seems they let him out for good behaviour as he hadn't killed anybody while incarerated, they also took into account his werk in the music industry and his invention of the wall of sound that took 3 years off World war 2.

What was he doing in Monte Carlo? ..... Maybe he was creating a wall of death!

I sat opposite Spector and played a few hands, he was getting annoyed by my skill at cards and when I shouted things like, "yay, I love those aces" and "what do you get when all yer cards are pictures?"  
     
He took his chips and went to the roulette wheel with his young blonde female companion. He said 13 black. Racist fucker, roulette is all about reds and blacks and who you put yer balls on, I prefer bingo. I saddled up beside them and nuzzled his lady friend's neck, "I'm a secret agent, meet me at the toilets for some quick rough sex"  ... she gasped and then said, "I think I love you, be careful" before heading off towards the bogs.

Spector was furious, he called over his henchmen to beat me up while he went and shot his blonde friend.





They were tough but I was kicked out of a fight club once for being too aggressive, and for talking about it. Leaving the thugs on the floor covered in blood as they tried to breathe through their broken faces I ran towards the restrooms. Too late, I heard a shot, followed by another and another.

I got there to see Specter standing over his blonde friend, I also saw the body of the teller I had shagged and one other lass I had been thinking about shagging later .... the life of a secret agent is a lonely one.

One fluid movement I disarmed Spector, I put him into a wrist lock and bent him over to kick him 3 times in the chest and once in the face because I didn't like him.

I pulled out my service revolver, a Webley Mk VI from 1916 which had saved my life more times than wearing a seat belt while driving had ever done ... which is why I don't use them.
I pointed my gun at him with a burning hate in my eyes cos the dead lass I was going to shag later looked the grateful type. He looked up and said, "you can't do it, you don't have the guts" he mocked me with a sneer.

"It's not that I don't have the guts old fellow, I don't have the bullets"  .... maybe I should get a newer gun with easy to get bullets. The police came and took him away. I had to break my cover and tell them I was a top level secret agent and that Specter was the head of an evil crime organisation with high up links in various werld governments and was also guilty of some very bad wigs was but they seemed like good chaps and probably won't tell anyone.

 She calls it the magic touch as mere contact with me has her climaxing like a Walking Dead finale. 

My phone notification went off, it was Hillary asking if I'd kill off a supreme court judge for her and make it look like natural causes, she was always finding werk for me to do just so she could talk to me, I bet this wasn't even on a secure server, when that woman thinks with her woo woo all sense goes out the window. 

006 had it a bit rough with a secret organisation in Monaco, it seems that they are everywhere these days. 


    



Thursday, 21 May 2015

Top Of The Pedos

Norfolk police have said that if you watched TV during the 70's and 80's there is a one four chance that you were watching a sex offender.

Of the 1,433 suspects for historical sexual assaults 260 are down as celebrity. 135 from TV, film or radio, 76 politicians, 43 members of the music industry and seven sports people.

 Cliff Richard singing about the young ones. 

That family friendly celeb, the singer you've sang along to for years or that sports star you cheered to victory, yep, probably a pedo or rapist. 

Experts advise you to just prepare to be let down. In the 60's, 70's and 80's it was acceptable to be an arsehole and molest weemen and children but now you have all those leftie liberal laws like the kind that Nigel Farage complains about.

Sir Patrick Moore has worked with NAMBLA UNICEF for years.

In the US no one ever mentions Michael Jackson sleeping with kids and Woody Allen and Bill Cosby have gotten away with their shit for ages, even in India a famous actor ran over and killed a homeless dude 10 years ago and he hasn't seen a day in prison.

Why are we not protecting our stars better? A famous person can't even punch an assistant producer without an uproar, what is the point to being famous?

  

Tuesday, 11 September 2007

Bourne Again

Damon is a star who can actually act even though he looks like a pixie, I wonder what their kid ended up looking like.

Matt Damon was in London at the UK premiere of The Bourne Ultimatum the third film in the franchise. I've seen the other two and they are good films, even the sequel is good which is odd in this day and age of grabbing the quick buck (fuck you Oceans 12) I have in the past slagged off James Bond for being stupid and catering to a dumb audience that don't expect too much and the fact that over the decades it hasn't gotten any better (still to see Casino Royale but don't want to) all posing, improbable plots improbable villains and expensive product placement, it looks more like an advert than a film. Buy the watch, the car, the motorcycle or Brosnan's cargo pants.

Jason Bourne that was originally a film with Richard Chamberlain, its more real, no ejector seats, no rogue Russians stealing nukes, Bourne beats people up with pens and rolled up magazines plus he killed that ugly fucker Clive Owen which is bloody good in my book.

Damon did say: " Bourne was no better or worse than Bond " oh such a modest young man. You don't get the feeling of invincibility with Bourne that you do with Bond so its more of a thrill, for years I wanted Bond to get killed and for a different character with depth to carry on like a 006.

Damon went on to say:

"Bond is an imperialist and a misogynist who kills people and laughs about it, and drinks Martinis and cracks jokes."

All true but watch it laddie, theres nothing wrong with having a few drinks to toast the British Empire and some wogs are asking for a bit of steel up them, is misogyny like sodomy ? cos I don't mind giving one up the rusty bullet hole if the lass is game .
When a new actor takes the role of Bond they say about Bond's cold blooded edge as a killer and how they want to explore it, its a one dimensional character, no development in over 40 years. Bond is a bit of a shallow prick but I'll say this for him where ever he goes hes able to find the easy weemen , hes like a dog that has to hump yer leg and you actually don't mind him doing it.

"Bourne is a serial monogamist whose girlfriend is dead and he does nothing but think about her, he doesn't have the support of gadgets, and he feels guilty for what he's done".

Killing his gurl was a bit of a shock but it gave him a controlled rage in the film, compared to Bond hes a monk but at least hes got a human side. Bond also had a dead wife and he stood at a grave for a minute as Roger Moore and no more was mentioned about her, back to quips and shagging chicks.

The dead wife thing is so cliched for action heroes, Lethal weapon explored that for a bit then after being suicidal , killing some bad guys and having a massive shit the hero felt better and made some stupid sequels with lower ratings so the kids could enjoy them.

Bourne beats Bond hands doon which is tough for me to say as its a Yank being better than a Brit (only in Hollywood could that happen)

Damon has not ruled out doing a fourth film but only as long as British director Paul Greengrass is in on it and Old Knudsen has a cameo as Bourne's father.
.
Greengrass said: "The Bourne franchise is not about wearing Prada suits and looking at women coming out of the sea with bikinis on. It's about essence and truth, not frippery and surface."
.
Exactly, who the fuck wants to see Halle Berry in bikini? I'd rather see the plain big nosed German gurl from the first Bourne film, I'm not shallow, I'm a Hornivore.



Sorry lads I went and spoiled it all by getting her up the duff. I should have stuck to misogyny and only did it up the bum no babies.