Friday, December 29, 2006

Old Knudsen Plays The Dating Game.


I've recently read some blogs that had the female Bloggers in dating situations and I've fought the urge to be all parental where these gurls are concerned as I know what wankers a lot of men (not me) can be. I just want to sit them on my lap as I stroke their hair and discuss how the only thing men want is their dirty pillows and their va va, then I'd like to run them a bath and scrub their backs while humming the Eskimo song of grieving then pop a porno movie onto the telly and have a game of twister.
Anyway I feel the need to talk to these potential suitors while I polish my shotgun, "hands to yerself, keep it zipped, yer best behaviour and back by ten, am I understood?" :::pulls back shotgun hammer::::::

I thought I would unleash myself onto the dating world so I signed up for UKdating.com to see what I would get.
I entered all my info and kept getting paired up with old weemen, for fuck sake, if I wanted a woman of my own age I'd go to the cemetery, dig one up and jump her bones, I like it when they lie still.

So I had to get creative and knock a few years of my age, well a few decades more like, ok ya bastards more than a few. I put my profession as a brain surgeon/part time airline pilot whose hobbies are saving African orphans (cute ones only) sailing my yacht around the Caribbean, staying at my summer villa in Tuscany , painting , poetry, tantric sex and foot massages.
It was a pretty in depth questionnaire so I made sure I added a few extra inches on to my size, I mean my height.

I put up a picture of my younger years which included my best jumper (sweater) a doggie, weemen are suckers for pets and some art to make me look deep.
I know some past remarkable cunt will nit pick at my stunning good looks , fucking haters, I so relate to Brad and George always someone jealous of yer beauty.
I think if I told people I was a centuries old one legged zombie sorcerer whose hobby is tormenting others and likes a swally I don't think I'd get much action .

I got a lot of female interest as you would expect, a couple of real mingers who I shall keep on the back burner incase the others don't work out, I got one Leonard Cohen fan, yeah probably all artsy fartsy and into the South Bank show and I got one that's into PETA and a perfect date for her is to throw paint at a Burberry shop (plaid is murder) and anyone that said they were into independent or foreign films, pretentious shites got ignored so I ended up going to dinner with a 32 year old single mother , a sure thing you'd think right? as she has a kid and all , not sure about that line of logic but all my mates say so .

A nice gurl but a lot of trouble to go to for a shag.

She was attractive but very unresponsive to my charm,she keep going on about how much older I looked in real life and did I ever take my hat off? and why did I have such a sour expression on my face? I didn't know if she was more like a Peeler (police) or an American, or maybe an American Peeler.
She got all snooty when I took her to KFC and made me pay for my own, theres playing hard to get and then theres cheap, but you should have seen the knockers on her, I pretty much didn't make eye contact all night, weemen love that, it shows you appreciate their boobs.

Half way through the meal and a pleasant conversation about leveling the Middle east and turning all the Sandsavages into slaves my tummy started to bubble, it didn't smell that bad, I mean I could of done worse as it didn't touch cloth nor did the turtle pop it's head out. I did say excuse me, it must have been the herbs and the spices. I got up and told her I was going to the shitter, its funny but it looked like KFC gravy when it came out if only I had a camera phone so I could post a picture. When I got back to my table my lady love wasn't there. I waited 2 hours then got a KFC flump'a'lump to check the toilets, nope no sign of her very strange, must of had a family emergency, quite rude of her not to tell me, I can't stand rudeness, so anyway I finished the food she had left, well what I hadn't already ate the first hour of waiting and I went home tired and lonely, and to think I washed my parts for this.
I'll wait until she comes crawling before I give her a second date, maybe its time to e-mail the mingers.


Rejections from weemen that Old Knudsen has had in his life that have all meant fuck off.

No.
I'm chock 'a' block
I'm seeing someone
Your'e not my type
I've got a terminal illness
I'm married
I'm engaged
We're not the same species
Not enough money
Get away from me or I'll call the police
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha !

When weemen break up and say to the guy,"we can still be friends".

What she means: shes met someone else or you're dull and she wants to end this
nice and quietly so smile shake hands and leave. You'll maybe only see each other
on the street and you'll nod hello and that's it.

What he thinks to this : pretend to take it well and pound a few beers later and hit some walls, oh yes I'll be her friend, I'll call her up and hang out with her and when I see weakness I'll either get back with her or teach her a lesson.