Old Knudsen Takes A Bow

I'm at that point in my blogging career where I stop and think: " How come corn the ultimate recyclable food cums out in my shite but never a nice tasty pickled onion?" I'm sure you have all had the same thought in yer life.

This post is all about me being introspective. Have I lived a good life? does the things I did in that inflatable boat full of mud with the singers 'Pink' and that 'Kerry she kissed a gurl lass' count as good or bad? how will that cunt St Peter founder of the Fenian church see it?

I swore an oath to her majesty the Queen her heirs and successors to defend the crown and I've been doing it for the Queen for years.

I've also done the Queen .................. Andrew (named after a Scottish golf course) I have something to tell you.

I have found the secret of everlasting life, the secret is to not want to live forever and God who is a contrary cunt makes you immortal, or is it immoral? I get confused which led me to cut the green wire, you never cut the green wire its a double bluff you cut the red wire unless yer colour blind and then you cut the puce wire, is that actually a colour? it sounds like something that weeps out of a boil.



I made enemies with the Diocese of Leeds when I posted a story on my news blog. I may have exaggerated and used real names but its fucking satire not satyr so a legal letter to Google was disproportionate, unlike the invasion of the Gaza Strip which was justified. Should have turned it into a car park.

I have posted many beautiful weemen but mostly just half naked ones.

Things have sometimes gotten a little hairy.

But I over came or came over all.

Including a jealously driven spam campaign, I'm telling ya, that gorilla was fucking bananas, smug fucking cowardly denying passive aggressive cunt.

I have posted some great posts, nay works of art. Read and re-read and maybe you'll learn how to blog.


Last week I killed Osama Bin laden. Like many an evil villain he came back to life when my back was turned rising up menacing behind me extremely slowly and then legged it out the door, fucking bastard I didn't even get my just rewards for catching him. Its a young man's game.


I tried to warn you all about the secret lemur world domination plan only to have several people go "huh?" well those people will die horribly because the ones in the movies that never believe the hero until its too late always die.

I have rememberised about my service in Her Majesty's armed farces. Above is me in Belfast in the early 90's about to cull some Taigs, not as widely known as the 'Battle of the revolting Fenians' otherwise known as Bloody Sunday (we won) this day was known as 'flesh wound lunch hour' well I tried but they replaced our powerful SLR's with these crappy plastic SA80's now we are just as effective as Americans. The enemy have better weapons for fucks sake.

I went on to Camp eagle in Kuwait seizing the oil rigs in Iraq before they could be blown up, no I don't expect yer thanks ............. money is enough.

Officially I'm a Colonel though I've been busted many times but thats personal, don't ask don't tell. I don't like to brag but I am the greatest thing since sliced bread and that was pretty fucking great.

Since moving to Southern Callyfornia I have joined the NRA, The 30 second men and the senior branch of Homeland security. I mostly look through me window blinds and look for terrorists. I have now come to recognise the difference between some brown people and don't call the hot-line (its a recording) every time I see a Mexican. I still call when I see a black person as they are bound to be up to no good.


Remember when I went to Texas and nearly got killed by zombies? then I met a woman on the line in Florida who was a total crackheaded slut (94% of the state) and we met up only for me to find out she was part zombie on her father's side and she changed me when she roughly used her teeth on me willy. Yank weemen really need to get used to normal, intact men with foreskins. They be great sex virgins until they experience a real man the way God intended ................ call me.

Yeah that was during my angry posting phase, I was changed, insulting everyone and calling people cunts, Fenian cocksuckers, Sceptic tanks, wankers, sluts and lunch-box lickers oh boy did I have issues.
I got some cream and the burning and itching went away. Though strangely enough you were still cunts, Fenian cocksuckers, Sceptic tanks, wankers, sluts and lunch-box lickers.



Ach I've stretched this out too much.


Its doesn't matter what people call you, don't let it bother you, just make sure they end up dead and buried in the desert and everyone who ever knew them also dead.......... thats in the Bible you know, some where at the back.

I've been blogging since August 2006, almost everyday. In fact I had to stop myself posting everyday as it seemed as if I had to .................. for the kids.


I went on holiday with Manuel and LMM, what a lovely couple, I'll never forget the orgies. YouTube took them doon the bastards.

Anonymous Boxer showed me her Chihuahua.


Donn Coppens showed me his massive army of the north.

MJ showed me enough for me to pour bleach into my eyes.
Mago showed me it was ok to feel.


First Nations made me feel like one of her family.


Many bloggers came and went, a few stayed and passed me around their friends like some kind of drunken homeless person. They are all in my links or followers (the fools)

Ah my readers of the night, what crap comments they make.


I went into business with Haliburton supplying expensive rations to the troops.


I also sold weapons to our allies and anyone with money or gold. Of course I did background checks, Blackwater trained me well.



Ben told me I had to return to the island . I told him to get lost ...................... on DVD.

I've had a swinging time but after a while dancing on the table loses its appeal.

I have often wondered who I am and woke up to find I was

This man. Then I realised no I was just trapped inside his body, "DAMN MY BLACKOUTS!"



Here I am, the fallen angel Old Knudsen, ready to save the day and fly off with the damsel in the see through dress.
Soaring high up in the sky as floating rocks and clouds go by.

Brazil, where hearts were entertaining june
We stood beneath an amber moon
And softly murmured "someday soon"
We kissed and clung together.

Then, tomorrow was another day
The morning found me miles away
With still a million things to say
Now, when twilight dims the sky above
Recalling thrills of our love
There’s one thing that I’m certain of
Return  I will  to old  Brazil
That old brazil
Man, it’s old  in Brazil
Brazil, Brazil

Will I return? who knows what I will say is, "Now you've read this fuck off."


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Do Farts Smell Lovely In Heaven?

I was once a sergeant in the police force investigating the huge hippy populations on the remote Scottish Isles.
Hippies mean one thing, long hair and drugs .......... ok thats two things. I was tricked into walking into a huge wickerman when I was told there was free drink inside. All I found was death because those stoned hippies set it a light as a sacrifice to Harry Pothead the dark God of weed. These tossers were amateurs as I had already died and have been reanimated by a Voodoo zombie prince and still had 3 lives left. I didn't have the means to confine them and torture statements out of them so I fashioned a large wooden cross and bludgeoned them to death with the lard. "Kill them all and let God sort out the stoned."

Someday my time will be up and I shall sing with the Heavenly choir eternal but for now I'm sort of alive and kicking.

Who of those featured below do you think will die first? welcome to the very first and probably the last installment of Celebrity Death-race 3000.

Patrick Swayze was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in January and given 5 weeks to live. The cunt is still ticking. His cancer has boosted his career and has given him a TV series called 'The Beast' which is about a large mutant vagina that goes from town to town eating people, what an ironic twist on muff diving. Swayze plays FBI agent Dan Bradwin and he and his animated space monkey partner follow the trail of *fanny* batter to find the killer.


Ted Kennedy famous for killing staff members and being the usual two faced Kennedy politician has a brain tumor. It has been said that the Devil himself will come up from Hell to collect this ones soul.



Some pubs or bars have betting pools on how long it will be before Barack Obama gets assassinated. Lets hope he fixes a few of Bush's fuck ups before he gets killed and immortalised as a saint.



Amy Winehouse has talent and whatever she is a tortured soul, with a face like that what can you expect? This chavette cannot last anymore longer, why would God do that? Why does God not keep good people like Paul Newman alive forever by giving them the wasted life force of people like Winehouse? I will be having words with that cunt of a deity when I go up to judge him on judgement day.


Bear Grylls eats rotting carcasses and squeezes the contents of a camel's stomach for water. He must have more parasites in his body than anyone ever. Its only a matter of time before the Sting-rays or the Lemurs get him. Drop him off in Killamory with an 'I love the Pope' T-shirt on and we'll see how long he survives.


Mahmoud Ahmadinejad the mouthpiece of Iran recently had a bout of man flu. Also one of his top yes men was found to have had a fake degree. Mahmoud laughed it off and said it was only a piece of paper. No Mahmoud it was a nit-picky excuse to get rid of one of yer people yer on yer way out lad. Yer last performance review was shite and the people are sick of you. You are the weakest link Goodbye.

Who will go first? or maybe some cunt jealous of not being included will go. Its like people you want to see naked you never see the ones you want. Those you want to die (I have a long list) will live to old age and you'll have a sagging pencil thin trollop saying, "Thats Hot!" thinking that she is sexy as she does now.



*Arse in America and vadge in the real world*


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Get It Right People

Looks a bit like an Arab to me.

This would be Old Knudson. Many many people mis-spell my name as Knudson. The Knudsons are a despicable bunch of people. Foul mouthed cunts who put kittens into sacks and dump them in rivers just to get a blog post.

Old Knudson thinks hes a big man because he had a three way with Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones while I have only shagged Zeta years back during her 'Darling buds of May' days.

Knudson always wants to get one over on me and every time some one spells my name like his he grows in power. Its said he was a large jar full of the souls of the innocent on his mantle piece and torments them with daytime TV and playing loud Jazz music ................. Hitler liked Jazz.

Old Knudson is intolerant towards everyone, it makes me sick and hes a mean and bitter old man who lives in some fantasy world.

Some say he lost his mind in Nam. The sweatshop he was opening up a few years back failed cos children are lazy fuckers. I don't see who would want to buy the sweat of young children that's crazy talk.

Intermission

I like a woman with something to hold onto, like a hand-rail or something.

The worse thing about Old Knudson is that he is Catholic, never trust a fella without a foreskin that's what I say.

He probably touted on me to the Bishop of Leeds for saying his priests were pedos, I'm not going to put up links to that dirty affair lets just say in an un-bitter way the good forces of Protestantism triumphed over the evil Catholic empire ruled by Osama Ben Edict as we did at the battle of the Boyne in 1690, a battle I could not attend due to a funeral.

That's enough about him. I've noticed as usual that I tend to get slagged off in posts and in comments all over the Blogosphere, that sort of thing happens to celebrities.

As I am a vile and base brabbler I hate to miss any of these jibes so I need volunteers for the Knudsen suicide squad, the pay and benefits are great on completion of yer first mission. Also I need volunteers for touts, tell tales, rats, squealers, supergrass' or informers to tell me when my name is used in vain.

Of course MJ and Anonymous Boxer (look the lazy bastard didn't even do links) are on my watch list as they are main offenders, as are the commenters on psychicgeek's blog. However if they turn against each other or maybe kiss or something they shall be highly rewarded with my cap when I die.

Trying out new looks to attract the young crowd.

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Let Sleeping Knudsens Lie

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Abu Gravy

The inhumanity of war but with weemen, when will it stop? all I need is one more minute then it can stop.

Who Are You?

Here is where it all happens, my bedroom where I blog from. I had a few young friends over for an introduction into the effects of alcohol, I think it went well.

One of my readers says:

Dear Old Knudsen

I have suspicions that you are not who you say you are and have been deceiving us all this time. If you are indeed Old Knudsen the popular, wise and witty sea salt you claim to be then tell us about your home of Killamory a place I have been unable to find on any map.

spacemonkeygirl@hotmail.com


My fine woman (or space monkey gurl) just look at my profile and see the honesty in my eyes.

Killamory is one of Scotland's best kept secrets, situated at the mouth of Lough Killamory. Its long sandy beaches lead up the heather strewn slopes of Scat hill to the 12th century ruins of castle Klute. A thriving little town with 25 pubs and 18 churches (protestant churches) nearby RAF Newton is where 2 alien space craft that crashed in 1953 are being hoosed . Hippies and nutjobs from all over cum up to see strange lights in the sky (we call them stars and aeroplanes) Killamory is my sweet home and if I ever had to leave I'd shed tears of blood as my grief would be so great, ach I don't want to think about such things.

When me and the lads go for a swally doon the pub we like to sing all 12 verses of "My sweet Killamory." I tried to sing it all here but I can only remember the words when I'm paralytic.

My Sweet Killamory

My face it was glassed and I was kicked in the ass but I'm having fun can't ya see lad ?

You go home to yer wife watch she doesn't have a knife or you'll be singing like a Falsetto.

The old cock crows with a joy to be alive in the land where the sweet heather thrives.
Oh my lass thought it nice when I slipped it in twice on the shores of the Killamory.

There was johnny McTay, we all thought he was ghey so we'd beat him and call him a nancy.Now he moved way doon south and he fucks in the mouth any female that takes his fancy.

The old sheep baa's with a joy to be alive in the land where the sweet heather thrives.Oh my lass thought it nice when I slipped it in twice on the shores of the Killamory.

Killamory is the place, to be a fucking disgrace, be a brabbler a drunk or a junkie.The air is almost clean, theres a lively disco scene, and the brothel is a tied up donkey.

The old dog barks with a joy to be alive in the land where the sweet heather thrives.Oh my lass thought it nice when I slipped it in twice on the shores of the Killamory.

I knew wee Mary Haig, such a bitter old taig, and she wouldn't renege her ways .But I hoped at the chance for a little romance, so I put up with passion plays.

The old man sings with a joy to be alive in the land where the sweet heather thrives.Oh my lass thought it nice when I slipped it in twice on the shores of the Killamory.

So Space monkey gurl who could make up shit like this? anything else you want to know just ask and give me a few minutes to cum up with an answer.

Fuck I hate stereotypes, it makes me so mad I want to glass the fuckers in the face and ge them a Glasgow smile.

For you to get to know Old Knudsen better he is:

* Cruel one minute and loving the next I'm as changeable as the sea.
* People think he is all seeing but really you are only seeing yer own guilt, shame on you.
* I'm not omnipotent well not as long as I have Viagra .I'm not 15 different people with proxy servers I'm not Horny Gurl 15 on My Space or Toffington the Earl of Twat on Blogger no matter how similar my writing styles are to them.
* I don't have all the answers but I can tell you what yer fucking problem is.
* Most of all I don't care and everything isn't about "you" nope its about me.

No wait a minute I do believe I just described God. So that means Old Knudsen is God, bet ya didn't see that coming I know I didn't. I'm not perfect you know but I'm pretty fucking close to it.

Bow doon you plebs, oh I need one of yous to build an ark, a nice big one with a shrubbery. Did I say ark? sorry I meant park, the drug dealers and their junkies need a place to hang out.

I know this to be true, for I am that old man.