Monday, March 24, 2008

Don't Tell Anyone But I'm A Secret International Playboy Spy

Yes I do use the same pictures and yes my gun can shoot round corners.

The name is Knudsen....................... Soren Knudsen, its not like the films usually I get a "and?" afterwards. I became a member of her majesties secret service during the late 50's.

A little known part of the job description was to service her majesty in secret. I didn't mind this as the Queen is so fucking hot, she still is today, just thinking about her gives me a diamond cutter.

I'm a jack of all trades, spy, manhoor, special farces and window cleaner. Whatever my cuntry needed I was there. To get a double 'O' licence to kill rating you need to be able to rub yer belly and pat yer head at the same time, oh and kill two people, anyone will do.

Its a little more complicated these days, in the 80's you had to kill the people and be able to program a VCR then it went even more high tech and you had to build a bookcase from IKEA and the cunts always had one part missing, killing the people was the easy part.

I got my licence early on in the game so I was ok, my secret number was double 'o' elevenityseven. Killing people was easy, especially if they were foreigners like Slavs or Greeks. The problem I had was seducing the weemen and pumping them for information.

Everyone knows if you wear a tux and claim to be a spy weemen get damp in 0-20 seconds. They just wanted to brag about having shagged Knudsen........ Soren Knudsen but I kept falling in love being a sweet and sensitive soul, especially if they give me a rimjob and lick my barse then for me its love.
Being in love with a woman always meant that they would get killed and I'd have yet another chip on my shoulder. I also never team up with a cute dog, or a chubby partner who is likeable and has a family as they always end up dying.

One time a gurl I loved with a talented tongue was killed by being covered in gold, I was heart broken especially as there was no such thing as E-bay back then. Do you know how hard it is to sell a hot dead woman covered in gold? not too hard actually.

I always had gadgets that would save me during that particular mission but I hated them. You try to find the cigarette lighter on yer 1964 Aston Martin and end up ejecting yer shopping and firing missiles into a school, bloody annoying when yer gagging for a smoke.

Those watches with the magnets and garrotes never tell the right time but its good for when you have to cut the cheese so to speak or if you drop a load of drawing pins (thumb tacks to you dumb yanks)

Being a spy isn't all glamorous, shagging hot weemen, killing bad guys and making humourous quips to yer Greek chorus, oh no theres a lot of smoking and drinking involved and yer life is in constant danger as yer wife may find out what yer up to.

I can trust you lot so here are some of the code-named operations I've been on, if you do read these and get killed well don't blame me, classified is for the weak.

Operation:

Dr Occasionally, Brownfinger in which I killed Baron Dirty Sanchez, From Killamory with clap, Bitterball, You only cum twice well I was on a schedule, Herpes are forever, The Man with the limp brown cock, The spy who gave me VD, Lotsofpussy, Muckraker, For yer brown eye only(catholic you see), Goldenshower, Lay another ghey, Chicken Royale and Quantum of a Solace. Excuse the last one for sounding a bit rude.

I just want you all to know that while I have a licence to kill which I just recently got re-newed doon at the town hall the world is safe, except on weekends and bank holidays.