If you see the Old Knudsen RV show me yer tits for a free t-shirt. Tits must be shown for a long enough period for Old Knudsen to have a happy ending. Being a high profile blogger who is usually high on some form of pain medication I am well aware that everyone is out to get me.
No I'm not some paranoid freak when you have all this going on weemen want to do you and men want to be you and men also want to do you and weemen also want to change you and use oral sex as a motivational tool but that's another story.
I guess I would feel unloved if I wasn't constantly being stalked so I keep an eye on my surrounding at all times.
I went into an up-scale restaurant called 'Farmer Boys' yesterday for the first time. When I say up-scale I don't mean those ghey ones with waiters and table clothes, no offense to that silly cunt Manuel but really get a real job like digging ditches or something.
They give you a number to set on yer table and a woman does bring you yer food but they don't hang around like a bad smell for protection money known as a tip.
I ordered fish and chips, I asked what kind of fish it was and the cashier was surprised to hear that there was different types of fish.
Remember back in the day we'd call it Cod and chips or whatever it was but now its just 'fish' so I ordered it anyway cos what was I going to eat a burger with avo fucking cado on it or zuc fucking chini whatever that is?
When I'm out and about I do get a lot of 'fuck me' eyes from people but there was this one woman who was really making me feel uncomfortable enough to make me take my cap off and hide it in my coat.
I don't like to be watched when I eat and this lass was taking notes.
I couldn't eat half of my chips no it wasn't the gurl watching me it was because they didn't fucking peel them fucking lazy Americans get a Mexican in and pay them $1.00 an hour to peel yer fucking taters if I wanted my chips to taste like dirt I'd have ordered a fucking side of mud.
I also sent back my iced tea and told them to boil it and put some milk and sugar in it oh and it had a slice of lemon floating in it make sure nothing else falls into it.
I got the idiot looks I got at that sushi place when I complained about my fish being raw are they trying to give me semolina poisoning?
So anyway I left the restaurant noticing that the lass went over to my seat and started to sniff the place where I sat and was fighting the staff for my left overs and used cutlery. The mystery was soon solved when I went out into the car park and saw this.
Not a word of a lie I took this picture with my own wee camera. Its her.
Bloggers aren't the same as they describe themselves it seems, except for me what you see or read is what you get if yer lucky.
I learned my lesson when I went up north and visited First Nations and MJ boy did my preconceived ideas based on the pictures they sent me sure take a beating.
Not only are they not young female and hot but they don't wash.
Speaking of taking a beating. Ok its nearly the 4th July and woop de doo you beat the British by all means celebrate its not like you win many wars, two as far as I can tell and one of those was only because the French helped you. French loving losers.
Its a fucking week away stop it with the fire crackers, those of us that have served during war time are sick to death of diving to the floor every 5 minutes having flashbacks to Waterloo or Normandy all that crying ruins my mascara and makes my face all puffy so quit it you cunts.
The only blogger I want to meet is Mago here, maybe someday.