The Holy Post

Old Knudsen has had it with you idiots, for over 3 years he has put clues and signs in his posts to direct you all to the secrets of man and sometimes woman kind. Old Knudsen is part of a secret society that is so secret we don't even know who we pay our monthly dues too. Its is an ancient group of scholars like meself to whom the truth has been revealed.

Old Knudsen puts at least 10 deliberate mistakes into each post so the chosen can work out for themselves. Well if Old Knudsen's blog was on the history channel they would get experts in to find all these clues and tell you what I was thinking. "Da Vinci loved to paint curly hair which to him represented water which obviously prophesied the tsunami of 2004".

"John the Baptist holds his finger to the heavens in a mysterious reference to God." No old John was extremely proud of his snotters which he'd show to everyone, he'd go shovel some coal for the fire and when the coal dust made his boogers black he'd say it was God's magic.

Have you lot followed the signs or were you distracted by hoors of desire such as?


This!

Or this!

Or even this! Disgusting the way the sheer fabric clings to her ripe perky nipples of her large voluptuous pale white fleshy orbs that defy gravity.


Well this is what God does to demonic distracting hoors.

Even if they do have perfect arses and Old Knudsen thinks its a total waste but God is a closet ghey woman hater obsessed with underage virgins all wise and has a plan ................. sure the plan may fuck you over but you weren't asked.


Old Knudsen has tried to direct you to the bloodline of Christ.

The treasures of the Templars.

The location of the Holy Grail. It only shines for the pure of heart so Old Knudsen has seen it many times.

Fuck lad look at the arse on that, no wait no distractions for Old Knudsen until his friction burns heal up.


Ask God all his secrets when you drink his holy ale. The Vikings called getting drunk in order to talk to the Gods a Blot oh yes those crazy raping and pillaging peaceful explorers were wise. Old Knudsen being Ulsterish and Scottish is also a Gallowglass and so is in tune with all the old Celtic and Norse ways. He drinks to blot out reality and the faces and screams of all those he has killed in war and on his hobby farm, it doesn't help that he has video taped a lot of it and plays them often.


Also Old Knudsen has tried to tell you to wear Levis as a sign to who the lost tribe of Israel really is I mean why the fuck would a star of David be on the Red hand of Ulster flag? its all there people.

Ach Old Knudsen is off to write a book of poetry, he may post when the mood strikes him but I'm counting on me verses to make me lots of money as the Armenians are getting testy and I know I put me Nazi gold in a safe place I just can't remember where. I told Kevork he'd get his loot as I'd rather lose my feet to diabetes than those cunts.

Here is a sample of what my hopes are pinned on:

If I were a tree,
Would you know me,
As I stand erect,
As I stand proud,
As my wood,
Slaps you across the face,
And sap gets stuck in yer hair.

Its a work in progress but pretty good huh? I was going to make the tree a weeping willow but that just came off as disgusting.

UPDATE


Due to threats in the comments and lemur prints in my margarine today Old Knudsen pulled some strings.

Simon Pegg being an X-files fan was happy to oblige, Gillian Anderson wanted to monologue about her vadge as usual and so wouldn't frenchie Pegg . Matt Damon was a right cunt and was shall we say difficult .
I used a PG-19 fast shutter with an enhanced blue optic 6 inch hertigal lens to help with the glare of the sun and Pegg's bright ginger hair.
I think Old Knudsen did pretty well due to time and budget and each star was returned safely home after the deed was done, a happy ending for Pegg and clean shiny hair for Anderson, Damon should be grateful he made it to my blog again, he'd be nothing without Old Knudsen.

Call off the lemurs Sparrow I did what you asked.

A Scary Thought

What if god wasn't Protestant?
Just a slob like a Fenian cunt
Just a Catholic on the bus
Trying to make his way home
Selling blow through his mobile phone
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to Taig-land all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Texting a wanker on the phone
That Nazi pope who lives in Rome.

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Christmas Prayers

Dear God I pray that peace comes to Somalia, Congo, Zimbabwe and the Middle East. That all the children in the 3rd world have been good for a change so Santa will bring them presents. Please help the world economy to get better and I am thankful that my daddy is a wealthy Politician.

Oh fuck all that God just kill off Old Knudsen he gives me the creeps and you know he wants my sexy body.


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I've Got Some Round The Back

Nearly that time of the year again in which you invite "Old Nick" er I mean Jolly saint Nicholas into yer homes to brainwash yer shallow idiot children with crass commercialism and eat and drink too much and make bad choices with drunken sexual encounters at work parties.

I just thought I'd get into the spirit of things and post a Christmas picture. Just remember people its all about lil baby Jeebus who, according to the history books and the History channel was born on the 25 th December, fucked if I know what year it was. I do know that after Jeebus was resurrected into his holy zombie state he never sent his Da a single father's day card. This gives hope to dead beat dads everywhere, whatever the children have against them at least they didn't crucify the wee cunts. (well probably not)

My Perfect Woman Smells A Bit.

Many weemen have asked me what my perfect woman was. I was always a little cagey with my reply so I wouldn't inadvertently lead them on, you know what weemen are like. So anyway me being the closest thing to God that any of you lot will ever see have made my own perfect woman out of some spare parts I had lying around. I call her Chesty La Rue.

Old Knudsen's Big Adventure.

I've been talking about the Sun newspaper recently and was put in mind of the cartoon strip Axa, a blonde hottie in post-apocalyptic Earth in the year 2070 who wore a bikini and swung a sword, she tended to get naked alot which was in line with the rest of the paper, ran from 1978 to 1986.

Old Knudsen's life isn't all just about private jets, drinking Cristal and large hairy men, oh no I'm just like yer average Joe Blogger on the street, except maybe better. I was at the shops getting my messages (grocery shopping you dumb yanks) and as of late I've had a dodgy tummy so when I got the gurgling of the squirts I clenched my cheeks and hobbled my way to the back of the shop in a dignified way but some fucker was already in there. I could hear the toilet paper rattling out of the dispenser. I eyed up the ladies' toilets but as the staff know me they watched me like a Hawk. I started to have hot flashes and cramps and that's when I started to rap the door with my walking stick, well I don't want to go into all the unseemly details but that bastard was in there for good and a bit too late for me, with my flashes pasted I walked off to do my shopping and then the bastard came out. A short man, wearing grey trousers and a grey jacket and he looked a little foreign to me, not in a dirty Slav way or a slimy eyetie way but sort of Iranian if you know what I mean. The bugger headed straight for the exits so I suspected some kind of terrorist action in the toilets or Restrooms as a Yank would call them though it can be sometimes hard work and no time to rest, then again we call them Bathrooms and they don't have baths did I go off topic again? did I have a topic? so anyway I looked towards the rent 'a' cop security guard who looked about 12 and could be knocked doon in a stiff breeze he would be no help, not even as a human shield. I headed over to the bogs with grim determination set onto my face and a stain that was get larger in the arse of me trousers, this was hero work, how does the same shit happen to the same guy every other day? maybe I should see a Doctor.

I stepped inside and yes it was a terrorist act possibly gas, the toilet bowl had been pebble dashed the paper was all used up, on the floor was some kitchen roll the workers had been using to clean with, it had been urgently pressed into action as shite wipe.

I didn't find any dirty bombs or crazed Muslims, there were some wads of tissue on the floor which I cleverly avoided, and yes the kitchen roll was quite soft and I was impressed at the suction of the toilet.
All cleaned up I went to wash my hands in the sink but it look a little grubby so I didn't bother. Its a well known fact that germs wear off the more stuff you touch so as the produce section was nearby I touched a lot of fruit and veg unnecessarily as I didn't want to go home with dirty hands.

I was standing in line at the checkout glancing at the front pages of the impulse buy magazines and I saw Cosmopolitan or Cosmo as we in the know call it, well I haven't actually ever read one but this cover peaked my interest. "Top ten things men crave in bed" wow some weemen really want to please their men, just not the ones I end up with. What would I crave in bed? well the obvious of course which is a nice cup of tea, Nambarrie being my brand and maybe some Ginger nuts to dunk, and sometimes maybe a Big Mac, to think a woman would go out at all hours to get her man a burger, they taste like shite but I usually don't care until 5 minutes after eating it. Sometimes when I wake up I fancy a nice can of beer or some Chinese barbecue ribs. The woman to fulfill my every craving may just be a keeper but as for 10 cravings, c'mon lads wise up don't be greedy.

The same magazine had on the other side of the page, "how to climax together" I may have to go back and buy that issue as who the hell climaxes together? the man cums and the woman takes care of herself later, that's in the fucking Bible and you can't argue with God, well you could but you'd be wrong.
Silly New age crap, don't upset the balance of things. I think that magazine had its head up its hole maybe I should write into to them.

I got my things rung up and you should have seen the dozy cow that was bagging my stuff, she kept looking at her cell phone every 2 minutes and giving an attitude, Among my items I had bought 4 packets of salt and vinegar peanuts but when I got home there was only 3, the bastards, the total fucking bastards, I got so mad I kicked the cat and sent it flying, oh don't worry its not my cat I'm looking after it for a neighbour.
Heres what I think, the baggers are given a commission by the store management on every item they can get rung up but not give to the customer, people think I'm paranoid but those are the ones that become food for the Alien Overlords.

Now for something completely different we regret to inform you.

Mark Langford who ran an accident compensation firm that collapsed with £100m in debts in 2003 died in a car crash in Spain, this fucker told 2,500 of his staff by a text message they were not going to get paid, to quote " "Urgent. Unfortunately salaries not paid. Please do not contact office. Full details to follow later...."
This man also knocked doon and killed with his Ferrari a 73 year old man and was only fined £1,000 for it .
What was I saying about different rules for the rich? well you rich cunts, even you can't escape Karma.