Sunday, March 30, 2008

Would You Like Lube With That ?

So anyway start of a post dripping with sex appeal and whatever else.
I when into the local Scottish place for some food the other day. I can't say the name of it because like the play with the prince of Denmark , you know the one that Mel Gibson made a film of in which he went mad and killed some Jews for starting all the wars or something like that. So anyway its bad luck to say the name and also The Scottish place might sue me.

There were the usual suspects, some bint was in the corner writing a book about boy wizards who think its magic to use their wands, the big boned ladies above and their rubber like children below throwing food and yelling a lot, yer deluded people that cum in for salads not realising that even the salads are deep fried and sprayed with a layer of tasty trans-fats.

I waited in line which I hate cos I didn't fight the Russians at Stalingrad to end up standing in line like the fuckers, those Russians queue for everything, bread, vodka, interrogation everything.

When it was my turn the worker who never smiled once and just grunted passed me a note saying, "please help me, get me out of here" never mind that crap I threatened the cunt straight out, "my fries had better be hot and fresh just like me and my order had better be right or I'm gonna shove my large fry up yer apple pie ala mode." I had no idea what I was saying the 10 or so painkillers were starting to kick in and I was feeling good but angry.

What does Old Knudsen eat at the Scottish place you may ask? no? well I'll tell ya, a quarter pounder value meal with no cheese and extra pickle and BBQ sass with me chips er sorry fries. I always go back up to the counter and say I never got my BBQ sass for my nuggets so I don't have to pay for them.



Old Knudsen has no fear, however I am a scared of Lemurs, bush babies, feminists, dickheads with authority, those fish called betas, getting caught by the fuzzies and clowns. How was I to know Ronald fucking McDonald was going to be there? do I read the big signs posted outside?

He came in and posed with the workers, oh look I just splashed you in the face with hot grease how funny. He posed with some of the customers for pictures and I was getting more worried because he was getting closer to me.

Being a man of action I took my tray to the toilets and ate in one of the stalls shaking from the sight of his clownness. I was able to eat and shit at the same time it was just like sitting on my commode at home .

I finished my food and left the tray in there as its their job to clean up not mine. I exited the stall only to see Ronald standing at the sinks waiting for me, at that moment I realised that not all of my shit had cum out.
I stood there frozen like a homeless person in the headlights with head lice and he spoke, "They all float doon here."

I didn't know what he meant but as I wasn't going to wash my hands anyway so I walked out.

I felt a tightness in my chest, my left arm was tingling and I had the taste of copper (and pickles) in my mouth.

I called out to the staff, "is there a doctor in the restaurant?" 5 of them raised their hands and 3 teenagers said huh? it turns out they weren't medical doctors just PHDs so I got into it about what total pretentious pricks they were calling themselves doctors and how I was two hamburgers short in my order but had lost the receipt and I'll be on my way as soon as I get them (with extra pickle of course) I had a belch and a lumpy fart and no longer felt unwell and got my burgers and went before creepy the clown showed up again. I was definitely not loving it.