Thursday, April 22, 2010
Smell Me I'm Irish
We all have to do things that aren't pleasant , things we would really not want to do, but thats enough of yer Ma!
The reader of this blog should know whats happening in Old Knudsen's life but I'll remind him/her/it about my future events cos blog readers have the attention span of an American child.
Oh lordy nice cold water with yer white muffins of love begging Old Knudsen to take a bite.
What was I saying? um oh yeah pay attention ya ADHAD fuckwits or you'll taste the tip of me bayonet.
Old Knudsen had to bribe a few Irish officials with some bags of spuds in order to jump the 50,000 back log at the Irish passport office.
Maybe ya should get some connections and lean on a few important bog trotters. Lines and back logs are not for Old Knudsen he is the front of the line kinda guy. If you take yer turn in America you get branded a Socialist, well they really mean Communist but Yanks aren't too bright, too much Foxy news watching, which is like listening to Ben Affleck on who to vote for.
Its official I'm now a muck savage. I had to prop it open with the mag from me rifle that killed 400 Bosche at the battle of little big man during the Cold war as the passport was as stiff as Old Knudsen when he wakes up everyday.
So fuck ye all ya Plastic Paddies and 2nd Class Brit wanna be's , you can dye yer hair and watch Celtic woman while you claim yer grandfather was Irish ............ from Chicago on his Granada's side and you don't know which part of Ireland.
Old Knudsen is the real thing or 'ting' as they say in gheylick. In order of importance I now have a Scottish passport that refuses to be stamped by the English, an Ulster passport that says "No Surrender"when opened but is very insecure about its identity and so lashes out in tantrums, a British passport that wants nothing to do with the other ones and now an Irish one that is lazy as fuck and smells like pish, no wait maybe that smell is cumming from me. I have sent my money away and will soon have a Nigerian passport as a sort of retreat plan if necessary.
Here is my stock pile of weapons which I will destroy/sell on E-bay if the British government pays me one million pounds, none of those Euro things as I don't believe them to be real money.
No seriously pay for my plane ticket or I'll have to blow something up and get deported, my motherland is calling me, "Oh oh the green fields and rolling hills, where I first set eyes upon me sweet Eileennnnnn"
See whats happening I'm singing songs about Ireland ignoring all its third world (turd world in gheylick) short cummings.
Next I'll be getting drunk, swearing a lot and picking fights .............. no really its almost noon time to get started.
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