All You Need To Know About London From Old Knudsen

The great balloon display of 1940, Americans never came over to see it.

Cor blimey gov here is all the information you will ever need if you want to visit old London towne . Old Knudsen Lived in East Finchley for a while which is in north London of course where he ran ye olde porne shoppe, always good for a butchers. Here is a shout out to all my peeps, well actually I don't have any peeps cos the southern English are cunts, no offense its just the way it is, all a part of God's plan.

Old Knudsen knew he was a superior being then but it was totally confirmed when he came to America.
London was originally named by King Lud as Kaerlud then it changed to Kaerludein and of course the Roman Londinium. The last is from the latin meaning 'City of terrible sound' as the Roman soldiers really hated the Cockney accent, can you Adam and Eve it? Yes I may slip into cockney rhyming slang without explaining what it means.

It has also been called Londonistan and is the only place you'll find chav Muslims.

Later you have King Canute on the throne who is famous for being a canute which is Danish for cnut later changed to 'cunt' then the Saxons (bloody Germans) and then in 1066 AD (After the Danes) Norman conquered England. Norman the conqueror was a French Viking type from Normandy of course.

His son William became the next king and started to build Westminster hall near the abbey. You'd think it would have a hall but no it didn't only a entry way and porch.

In 1290 Edward I that wanker from Braveheart if you will kicked all the Jews out of England. We Scots are are the lost tribe of Israel, we were the Levis who made quality garments, we made the 501 kilt so we share a bond with the hooked nose money lending Deity killers.

Not to get bogged doon in history there was the Black death or death of colour, the pitiful Spanish Armada, War of the roses civil war one and two as we take gardening seriously, Guy Fawkes and his V for vagina monologues , beheading the king and the great fire of 1666 . All a nice wee bit of fun.

Then there was orphans, soot and pickpockets, a couple of wars the Americans were late for, some Fenian cocksucker terrorist action and a Dalek invasion.

The north and the south of London has the families, the east has only males and the west has west end gurls.
Everyone eats jellied eels, fish and chips smothered in salt and vinegar or else they are sent to the tower of London which does not have any lifts or escalators.


London gentry, never look them in the eye or they'll kill you with their razor sharp hats or cutting remarks.

The Queen has always hung about with a rum lot.

The Queen lives in Buckfast palace where she sits with a high powered rifle and picks off paparazzi or slow moving pedestrians. Its her thing and she is the Queen.

"You spilled my pint" "I'm so sorry dear chap how about pistols at dawn? no in fact don't trouble yourself to get up so early I'll just shoot myself its the decent thing to do."
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You never threaten to sue anybody in London you insist on being sued. For instance if someone knocks you doon in their car it is you who is at fault for being in the way of the motor vehicle. You must apologise a lot and try to clean up the mess of their car. Paying for a car wash or mechanic is the right thing to do and if the driver looks shaken you must offer to be sued for emotional trauma.
If you fail to comply with the rules of London society you will be ostracised by ostriches and sent to Coventry which is a God awful place.

Elephant and castle ......... stick it up yer asshole.

Here is typical London attire, you should dress like this or you'll be singled out as a tourist immediately and looked doon upon. If you are Irish put on an accent or you might get stabbed in the tube, toob or subway as the Americans call it.


You Septic Tanks pay attention cos if you don't listen to what is being said you'll look like a Berkeley Hunt. I was going doon the frog and toad for a pig's ear but I was Boracic lint
so I asked this fella in a Whistle and flute for a hobb. I knew him from way back as I shagged his Skin and blister she had really nice bristols but had a tendency to raspberry tart round the back alley so anyway all he did was Bubble bath and told me to fuck off so I went home and had a J. Arthur Rank.


If you find yerself in London beware of the London eye . It will find you and nom on you until all that is left is yer feet which are thrown into the river Thames and get washed up in Canada. The river Thames is named after old Thamie a monster who lives in it eating all the fish which is why you'll never catch any in it, init.

Visit Big Bong, Nelson's erection and the nations finest pub 'The Queen Vic' but watch out you don't step on any street urchins as they are poisonous, piss on the wound straight away.

England has a state religion, no freedom of speech which is why there are no British bloggers so watch what you say and if you insult the monarchy expect to have yer hands cut off as punishment.

It is also a socialist cuntry so if you have a bag of sweets (candy) expect to share. A thing many travelers to the UK notice is the dental hygiene so bring enough toothpaste as you can only buy it on the black market (market of colour) for 12 packs of ciggies and some nylons.

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I was recently asked about the Scottish Sporran, "Mr Knudsen sir, what is up with that minge like thing you vastly superior Jocks carry around on yer kilts?" first of when you talk about Scottish culture like that we Scots feel the quickening and will most likely kill you, then we'd cry at our loss and write a terrible song of lamentation.
You see we don't have much in the way of culture, all everyone goes on about is kilt this and kilt that and it was a bloody Englishman that invented the modern day version on the kilt in 1727, it was taken from the Great kilt or Breacan which was a length of cloth 6 yards by 2 yards that was wrapped around the body and over the shoulder. Tartan was also made up and the various patterns that became most popular in the 19th century were probably just regional manufacturing differences. I've mentioned before that the bagpipes were from the middle east and used in the Scottish regiments of the British army, but there is always the Sporran.



The Sporran which is Scottish Gaelic for purse was used because when wearing the Breacan you didn't have any pockets, this could be used to carry money, yer cell phone or even sometimes food. Made from goat or badger skin it could be plain or decorated.

Wombles, they pretend to be all environmentally friendly then they eat yer children.

Great Uncle Bulgaria, Tomsk, and Madame Cholet ganging up to take a small gurl doon, violent and bloody is their way.

I personally used Womble, I had my own wee business making Sporrans, those Wombles were tricky, they'd go under ground over ground or just Wombling free, I am responsible for wiping out Wombles in the north the south belonged to the soft southern English gangs and that was their turf. Lambeth was their base, the Pearly Kings and Queens, they'd walk about Lambeth going Oi! they wore buttons all over their clothes to deflect the point of a knife in a fight.
Once I strayed too close while on a Womble hunt, I was too worried about being ambushed by the Womble to notice them, they caught me and dragged me up some apples and pears to room where the Head Pearly King was. I'll never forget his boat race, looked like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle, they thought I was a septic tank at first, you know those Sassanachs not too bright, I told them I was Listerine and I only sounded septic when I sang.


Mean bastards that fight like fuck, Elephant and castle, stick it up yer asshole.

The Head King was a right Berkeley hunt, he grabbed me by the cobbler's awls and of course I told him everything, they said they were going to kill me and would I like some Jellied eels as a last meal, I told them I'd rather eat my own feces though I wouldn't say no to a Ruby, they agreed to go fetch me one and as their shouts of oi! faded in the distance I slipped out the windy and doon a drain pipe and made my escape.

I couldn't find a pretty female Scottish actress so I put up Ewan McGregor instead, pretty isn't he? and to cover my arse just go to Sam problem-child-bride's Blog on my sidebar for an example of real Scottish beauty, but watch it she'll glass ya.

You may have noticed by now this does not have much to do with Robert Burns, well so fuck I don't care. I put up one of his poems on my other Blog Old Knudsen, a bit ghey to be honest . I've been to Burn's cottage, very small not very impressive at all, they sell wee white furry men with tartan hats to the tourists.

Insulting the English, confusing the Yanks my job is done here.