The Real Old Bitter Balls

Blogging is boring and only for losers and ex crabbers with no life. See me on Facebook as I reveal more about the perverted lonely individual pictured above. Old Bitter Balls himself  in all his glory. (Or should that be glory-hole?)

Helpful Ghey Hunters In Antrim

I don't like sleeping with an open door, that's just an invitation for some sex starved man who has seen me wiggling my booty around the Safeway to come in and molest me, waking up with my dick in some hot man's mouth may sound like a wet dream cum true but us oldies need our sleep. I usually just Dutch oven the nympho, if ya can stay horny after the smell of my foul cabbage soup ass then yer not human.
I left a comment on a story on my new Facebook page about how Britney's granny shot herself in 1961 and how Britney lost her virginity aged 14 but pretended to be a virgin when her career took off (like anyone believed that) my comment said who cares? and called her a junkie white trash hoorbag, but Facebook deleted my comment and put a written warning on my record, I don't know why as she is all of these things and its not liable, she is a fucking drunk.
Having lived in Belfast I'd see on certain streets and even in parks you have to run the gauntlet of dodgy half drunk people with out stretched hands shouting, "Hey ghey fella, got 20p?" once I had my cap off my head and was holding it as the weather had gotten warmer and some dirty cunty baws shouts over to me, "If ya don't want to wear it I'll have it, " that fella got some of me most choice words and a kicking when I found him asleep in a doorway later on.
The protein from my semen will keep him in Flintstone vitamins for many a month to cum..... nyuk nyuk.

I'm not sure how to take the news of the homeless deaths, is it yay! 6 are dead ? or is it ah c'mon we could do better in 18 months? I mean what's the right reaction to this ?

I did once find myself walking in the same direction as one of the people who sit and drink bottles of "beat the wife" all day in Ormeau park once, he must have been on something as he was talking a mile per minute, he volunteered such information to me about how the government was paying the rent for the flat he lived in and how he was expecting a £300 bonus benefit near Christmas that was going to pay for a ton of drink and he was getting this and that, doing better than me he was. I mean I couldn't afford to get drunk everyday even with the odd 20p tip from a stranger I was working for Hunter Glazing as a glass cutter, the bomb blasts of terrorism was great for the glass business. It's funny, but my stalker recently contacted the people at John Hunters to establish my new address. Nice people those quaint folk in Antrim, so obliging when it comes to helping old friends keep in touch.

I never saw desperate down on their luck people on the streets of Belfast, I'm sure they exist but I just saw people who chose to be there so no sympathy from me, just like in Canada where they have this centre where junkies can go and get clean needles and a room to shoot up or chase the bloody dragon under supervision so they can get medical attention if they overdose, what the fuck? I say overdose yay!

San Francisco even considered the idea for such a place but it was too ghey even for them, no offense to my fellow fudge packers of San Francisco, I loved the "Streets of San Francisco" especially all those wonderful dirty back alleyways.

Taste The Rainbow

¿Y qué si yer estúpido, demasiado grande para las botas, engreído, fanfarrón, tomar las cosas por sentado, desagradable, arrogante, engreído, falto de conciencia social, infantil, jengibre demostrativo, flaco y calvo. Si usted no ha de relacionarse con las personas que crecimos, que odia a su padre porque le daba vergüenza de usted. ¿Y qué si su país se burlaban de todos los países que tratan de llamar a casa no te quiere, no le gusta su personalidad, o falta de ella. Entonces, ¿qué si usted siempre será un mestizo, en busca de amigos, un hogar, un lugar para echar raíces. No importa que todos los que la Navidad se ven obligados a comer mierda y celebrar por su cuenta, mientras que su familia apenas le dará un segundo pensamiento. No importa si usted tiene que fingir ser alguien que no eres y que viven en lugares exóticos en todo el tiempo que vivimos en una hab pequeña hecha de ladrillos grises en un barrio gris entre los grises, gris e incluso mestizos más gris.

Antiguo Knudsen está aquí para mostrar mi mundo, para que todos los males desaparecen yer, que te hacen sonreír cuando me siento y lloro solo. Porque si usted piensa que cabrones tienen que duro sólo echar un vistazo a poco viejo me ghey.

.....and for my one nyuk nyuk English speaking reader
So what if yer stupid, too big for your boots, smug, boastful, taking things for granted, nasty, conceited, arrogant, lacking in social conscience, childish, demonstrative, ginger, skinny and balding. If you have failed to bond with the people you grew up with, hating your father because he was ashamed of you. So what if your own country mocked you, every country that you try to call home doesn't want you, doesn't like your personality, or lack of it. So what if you will forever be a mongrel, searching for friends, a home, a place to put down roots. It doesn't matter that every Christmas you are forced to eat shite and celebrate on your own while your family barely give you a second thought. It doesn't matter if you have to pretend to be someone you're not and that you live in exotic places when all the time you live in a tiny bedsit made out of gray bricks in a gray neighborhood amongst gray, gray gray and even more gray mongrels.

Old Knudsen is here to show you my world, to make all yer woes vanish, to make you smile as I sit and cry alone. Because if you think you fuckers have got it hard just take a look at little old ghey me.

Homo is where the Heart is

Old Knudsen sometimes feels he not getting some of the desperately needed sexual attention he craves in order to keep him a half decent human being. My father never hugged me as a child, plenty of the old ghey men around the village did, but then that was all there was to do up in the remoteness of a retarded Scottish fishing village, apart from back scuttling your cousin of course.

A new bill was passed in America on Friday that requires people like me, registered sex offenders, to note their criminal status on all of their social network accounts like Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn.

So not too many people from Louisiana on FB now. Not many people from America on the Interwebs full stop. To quote a local, "We don't do the Internet too good."

All those redneck states are eerily similar in attitude to Northern Ireland. Old Knudsen is the exception but most people over 50 there can't work a computer. Old Knudsen likes to give the impression that he is a ghod-fearing protestant from Norn Irn, but in fact he is a ginger mongrel retard from the backwoods of some nonentity Scottish hamlet across there in Haggisville. Old Knudsen doesn't work since he was deported by those Americunts.

I laugh when an old person asks a young firm but orange shop assistant if they have something and as they don't stock it she suggests 'the Internet.' So fucking helpful. When you order sex toys off Amazon where do you send the cheque (check) or postal order (money order) too?

Old Knudsen hopes this doesn't catch on as its hard enough for him to allay suspicions of young firm gurls he wants to abuse on Facebook. Old Knudsen only wants to be yer friend and maybe some nite you'd like to stop by his house to see his criminally insane sketches. Old Knudsen loves to sketch trees, kittens, crab boat crime scenes, you know nice stuff. His living room may look like a ghey torture sex dungeon.... no, really.

Oh and don't tell anyone where you are going. I can print my home address on here if you cannot find me.... no, really.

Old Knudsen is on Twitter but doesn't have a mobile phone, well not one from this decade and hes on LinkedIn but kinda forgot his password.
I always use anal123 but then I changed it to out fox the spam bots, seems I was too clever for myself. Old Knudsen is a genius with electronic equipment. It only took him 5 days to grease the ankle bracelet enough for him to be able to frequent the bushes in the local park.

If this idea does catch on you may see Old Knudsen's status going from in a relationship to expecting restraining order.

Those who violate the new law face up to 20 years prison time with hard labour, without parole and along with fines of up to $3,000.

Old Knudsen cannot help it if he offends both animals and humans on a regular basis.  

From Russia With Love

I was trolling the blogs today wearing nothing but my boyfriend Juan's new leather g string and nothing else but an old mans smile and you know what? There is the biggest pile of shite out there complete with their yes men to comment. Fag hags and hacks, Canadian bloggers are the worst, thank fuck for Facebook and its attraction for weirdos.

When someone has B.O. you tell them they fucking stink right? So when someone is a dry shite and the only funny bone they have is when their boyfriend shoves one into their arse then you should tell them right ? Yes I know I'm setting myself up to be told I'm not funny, don't be silly, I may have the odd miss but every day? They love me in Russia, perhaps a little too much by the amount of comments and proposals of love I dare not publish. Barnyard sex is something I grew out of in my 40's. I still grace the odd sheep with my male muskiness, but cattle make such a mess of the sheets.

Anyway I must be funny as so many have started to copy me. Who the fuck is this wee Bitterballs kid and why does he track my progress before he blogs? What? You think I don't know you're watching me gingernuts? If only you knew who you actually confide in.... nyuk nyuk.

Notice the odd older established blogger posting titty pictures and being more daring? Ok they can't really do it but bless their tiny brown willys, or others pretending to be as interesting as old Knudsen and think they call themselves some kind of lord people will want to know? Been there twat, I'm a ghey time lord, I get around faster than the clap.

Some hints and tips.
If yer southern English don't try humour.
The aristocracy are not interesting.
Write what you know, in fact I told my old mate Ernie Hemingway that one.
Stop thinking about how yer going to make money blogging all the time and just blog.

In my opinion the Irish make the best bloggers but can hold themselves back, of course me being a mongrel and not a full bloodied Bog trotter is the exception to that rule as I have to be the best ghey blogger in the world, well do you lot get spammed as much as me? Elvis, John Lennon, Lincoln and JFK didn't get shot because they were mediocre, others were threatened by their greatness.
 Me by my gheyness it would seem.
There wasn't anything like me in the Blogosphere when I arrived, but there will be when I'm gone so I'm going to invent all the aristocratic and anthropomorphized characters I can think off so those who "hate but emulate" will owe me big time. It's not like those soft living over educated cunts have ever been to sea, war or work, so me working class characters are safe. No wait...... I haven't been to those places either, unless of course  you count the 2 days I spent throwing up on a crab boat in the north sea.

JK Rowling, the hack that wrote the Harry Potter books was answering questions from the audience at Carnegie Hall, New York and when one of the audience members said that her books were so ghey she said, "funny you should mention that because Albus Dumbledore, master wizard and Headmaster of Hogwarts is a wand stroking flaming homo." I never had the balls to ask another question all night.
Everyone was stunned except the gheys as we think that everyone is ghey anyway.

Well it explains why Harry was made "head boy" and got such good grades, stay tuned for Daniel Radcliffe cumming out of the closet in years to cum, its so obvious, and no I'm not all ghey.......... well maybe just a little bit. And trust me, thing between my legs is just a little bit. Still, the kids in the park seem to enjoy me waving it around in the breeze.

His Holiness - Father Homo Pedo

Please keep passing the collection plate you mugs

I worship the religion of Homopedo which is an off shoot (pardon the pun) of Free Presbyterianism as any of you half educated half wits will know.
To give it its true Fresno name "Sucka de Cocha" which loosely translated means 'The only true way and the rest of you are damned to burn in hell.'
Our way is a way of ghey love (terms and conditions may apply) and we have our own version of the Bible as dictated to from Ghod Himself to Ian Paisley in the year 1666 BC .

We are a most enlightened Church and are made up of Gheys, Catholics, Jews, lots more Gheys, Slavs, Dirty Arabs and People of a certain color........... unless they are Canadian of course, then they are taken outside and clubbed. What goes around comes around.
I don't believe in evolution, just look at that word, isn't evol just a little bit too much like evil? And to evolve, well nothing good can come of that. Why ask questions and think for yerself when you can just read the good book or ask yer ghey pastor?
The world is 500 years old and if you find anything older then that's the work of the Devil, simple enough to explain, even to simpletons like you, my only reader.

I believe in Intelligent ghey design, if it was a bad idea would it be called intelligent? Don't try logic on me, even though I only have one testicle I can still run rings round you logically cos I got the smarts and Ghod is on my side. As the great Adolf Hitler once said and look at him, from a poor family to ruling Germany and most of Europe, the American dream but with lederhosen sauerkraut and a mistress who liked him to watch when she shat on a glass coffee table.

Ghod made Adam and Lilith but she was an uppity cunt and wouldn't make the tea when told to do so, she then went off to fuck lots of Demons in a cave which is what the Slavs and the Poles are descended from. Then Ghod made a better more subservient woman named Eve who wasn't too bright and there was the whole original sin thing which I have never forgiven weemen for. Man fucketh man, weemen maketh the tea, nuff said.
Getting back to intelligent design, after mankind fought the ghey apes for control of the world and wiped out the walking talking ones we were left with humans. Also left was the stupid monkeys and primates that fling poo, watch hockey and blog etc.
Due to Intelligent design the ghey primates still had opposable thumbs and what does any animal no matter how stupid do with the gift of opposable thumbs ?  They masturbate. Just look at one of my other alter egos 'The Japing Ape' I write that while I jerk off on the bus home.
Ever notice that given the power to tug the lad they will make full use of it and will be the only other creatures apart from superior humans that have sex for pleasure? Monkeys and apes still don't have souls like all the other animals which is why they can't get into Heaven and why we eat them. I'm eating a monkey right now as we speak. I'd better hurry, he has a train to catch in 45 minutes.

Bruce Springsteen Ghey?

I was just kicking back and chilling with my old mate Bruce Springsteen, who you may know is totally straight and does not drip gravy on the carpet when he pharts, unlike me.
He prefers to come over to Eyeland rather than me going to his Hollywood home since the court case involving me and the young Mexican boy ended badly. Also because his wife gets freaked out when I stare at her with my hands in my pockets.
I don't know what her problem is, weemen huh? Old Knudsen does what he does, you might as well beat a dog for licking its balls, I wish I could do that, lick a dogs balls I mean.

Bruce is a good few years younger than Old Knudsen, but hes already talking about his own mortality. I added to his fears by saying he didn't look too well.
After a few drinks I swore I'd look after Mrs Springsteen for him because we were best fucking mates.
We got to talking about legacies. I've heard that word 'legacy' a lot, mostly its when a politician is on the way out he'll actually do some work to make people remember his legacy.

David Cameron is taking credit for the shaky peace in Northern Ireland and balmy Obama is trying to bring peace to Israel and Palestine by going to everywhere but Palestine giving his support, money and weapons. What a cunt...
When OJ Simpson dies how will he be remembered? As a football player or a murderer who got away with his crime?  Michael Jackson's music will be overshadowed by him being a fellow pedo as will Gary "the queer" Glitter.
Phil Spector however won't be remembered for being a crazy fuck who shoots weemen, oh no he'll be remembered for a fucking wall of sound.
Hitler gets the moustache and the holocaust while Mussolini had the trains running on time theres no rhyme nor fucking reason in this worldsince the dinosaurs got theirs.

What first comes to my mind when I think of Elvis is dying on the toilet, the place where most heart attacks happen because of the straining involved, its ironic that he died constipated and then as you die you shit yerself.  I don't believe he got it down the crapper though. More likely it was bagged and will end up on mounted on an onynx plaque on top of Paul McCartney's sideboard in 10 years time.

When you normal (hetrosexual) people die and you haven't achieved the Blog greatness that I have, I wonder what you'll be remembered for?

I've known two guys who have died over the years, when family members clear out their houses they have had a large bottles filled with piss beside their chairs.
One of them (a ghey relative of mine) had served on the HMS Illustrious during World War II but he'll be remembered for having a bottle of piss beside his chair.

Everyone knows that I blog on a commode with a feather tickling my enlarged anus so I don't have to get up and go and have a shit, also it's down to a 40% chance of me actually making it to the shitter now that my ringpiece is larger than the rim of a tire on a Buick. I think a commode is more socially acceptable than a bottle, besides, they come in such lovely shades of pine.

I'm looking into a heart monitor that I'll wear like a watch and so if I died incendiary devices will go off in the cupboard where I keep my male sex doll and stack of ghey porn. Also in the cabinet is where I keep all the classified extra super top secret documents I borrowed from various governments.
I wonder if there is a way to wipe the hard drive of my computer so no one can see what pictures I've downloaded of tiny Mexican horses that normally only cum up to yer crotch. I'm getting a stiffy just thinking about mounting such a tiny hole.

What will family members find if you died today ? I'd rather be remembered as the Greatest Blogger in the world who banged Burt Lancaster in the ass in 1967 while George Peppard watched. Also as the first ghey man who killed the Great White Panda of the Pennines at the cost of his leg than, "oh yeah, that's the cunt who had the 2 litre bottle of piss beside his chair, lazy old fucker."

Most of my posts start with a message and degenerate into some perverts idea of a happy ending.
Old Knudsen is a ghey romantic soul, On my 5th wedding I wanted to express just how much I loved my man-bride to be, either Simon or Sammy was his name.
He was hot and had the most extraordinary luck ever. He used to go out at night for a few hours and come home and tell me how he just found £300 on the ground. Lovely fella, but you could clap your hands together inside his loose sphincter.
Then when our first adopted baby was born and he turned out to be Asian his secret was out, it seems he was a distant relate of Ghengis Khan which is why he looked white but could have a half Asian baby, I didn't mind for I knew old Ghengis, what a laugh he was and at least the baby was mine. I still have the reciept.

So back to our vows, I can remember it like it was yesterday, except it wasn't yesterday, which I only have partial memory of. I stood there while the policeman burned away in the flaming wicker effigy and I solemnly said, "Dear Simon or Sammy, as long as I have a face, you have a toilet."
Yes female readers I do know what weemen want.
Our marriage only lasted a few years as Simon or Sammy was murdered by the Aberbrothock Slasher who went around killing ghey prostitutes, he must have mistaken him for one. He used to wear micro mini skirts in the dead of winter, not very practical I used to say but he like his fashions. I shielded little Charlie Chan our son from some of the accusations made. People can be so cruel.

As for Bruce, well he may be straight, but I won't hold anything against him..... cunt.

I like to Suck

I just heard that working night shifts can cause cancer. Fuck sake I used to work night shifts as a grave robber back when young doctors needed cadavers to fondle and cut up that's when I ran into Count Dracula ::::spits::::: dirty Slavs, that fucker bit me in the neck.

I said hang on a minute Boris I'm very ghey, can't you see by these trousers they are just a bit tight around the crotch, look you can see my bell end through them.
The dirty Slav bastard wanted to bite that too so I tricked him, I pulled it out much to that coffin packers delight and peed on him, blessing it as it flowed, holy piss Batman.

I became a ghey Presbyterian minister on the Intershed, so it burned him like fuck, maybe it was the asparagus that burned him, well it fucking well burned me, like pissing razor blades I think yer ma gave me the clap
He ran off screaming that he smelled like piss, as if that's a bad thing, welcome to my world.
I staggered to the ER as my HIV contaminated life blood seeped out of my neck.
Two doctors were telling each other how they felt, while a nurse in room 218 was saying goodbye to an old dying woman who taught her how to live again. The place was like a fucking soap opera, "hello I'm fucking bleeding to death here" after I filled out a form I was put in a cubical my clothes were covered in blood, semen, blood, but mainly semen, so I was feeling weak. In walked a good looking male doctor with perfect hair, "hello I'm Doctor McSweatyarsecrack and what seems to be the trouble with you?" I mumbled that I was bleeding from the neck after being bitten by a Slav, he looked angry "nasty things those Slavs I'll get you a tetanus jab and top up of blood" he turned to leave his soft bouncy hair gently lifting in the breeze and I was able to call out "make sure it's pure Irish blood and not that Proddy shite from the north " as I passed out through loss of blood.
So I became a ghey vampire, but no ordinary ghey vampire, I was a crime fighting an evil hunting vampire, nah only kidding. I was just a plain old ghey cunt.
While most vampires move to America for movie deals and where the sun (our destroyer) is very hot I stayed in Derry.

I only had to be careful about twice a year or summer as we call those days. In the North of Eyeland when people see the sun they either think its the end of the world or a UFO. In Eyeland we vampires can walk in the daytime during cloudy days and before the spides appear for their daily skag. I sell it in grams and ounces, our secret, nyuk nyuk.
So being a vamp didn't change my lifestyle too dramatically. I had to wear black of course and slick my hair back, oh and drain the blood from three straight people a day. If I missed a person I got grumpy as fuck. Its not as easy as you'd think to find straight victims to suck dry.
Its not like sex were you stick your head in down there, its more intimate, the last thing you want as yer sucking away is to see some head lice crawling yer way or see a bad case of dandruff getting all over yer black clothes.

It's hard to suck them doggy style so you can't avoid looking at ugly meals, if they are fat then you might miss the artery.

I'm not biting any weemen, maybe if it was Mary Jane Lezzer or someone butch, but no, I'm not having the rest of the vamps at the Tatty Twister (its a bar for ghey vampires) saying I've gone all Transylvanian or Bohemian or whatever.

Children are not safe cos I'm a ghey pedo, so that only leaves some weemen that are safe. Besides, there is a sore shortage of hot weemen in the north of Eyeland, especially in Ballymena where a woman is judged by her semen spitting abilities than her looks.
American weemen taste like plastic due to all the fake tits, the Canadian weemen are the ugly meals you have to bite while they are wearing bags but they are very polite. French weemen taste like garlic, I just don't like the smell of garlic, it's deadly you see. Nothing vampy about Russian weemen, they get you drunk with their high blood alcohol levels, I went to Moscow for a visit and it ended up more like leaving Las Vegas. I ended up on the 12 step program for alcoholics.
The older you get the less you can be arsed with hot men and all you can do is look at them while they make sure to stay out of arms length and I'm not as fast as I used to be with this tag on my ankle.

So if you don't see me during a full moon then you know why, I'll be off howling at the moon, no wait that's werewolves and the thing I do when I'm drunk as a skunk, pissed as a newt or intoxicated as a bastarding english vicar.
So if yer bit by Zoltan hound of Dracula do you become a vampire or just get rabies and die? ah such uninteresting questions my bloggers of the night.

I just thought I'd tell you this story as I heard that Dracula had just recently died of cancer, the night shifts of stalking virgin boys must have gotten to him, he got this big lump behind his ear, I blame his mobile phone I mean those signals just go through you to yer phone.

No Smoke Without Fire

Old Habits Die Hard
In the past few months Old Knudsen has had to fend off vicious slander that he is in fact not ghey. Now while there has been such photos of Angelina and Scarlett by his side there has been no proof what so ever to imply that Old Knudsen is exploring the pink stinky bits found at crotch level on his weemen companions.

Old Knudsen only likes males as the whole (nyuk nyuk) hetro thing is hurting his movie and singing career, so he'd like to introduce you to the daughter of the new boyfriend in his life.
Now I won't give you her actual name due to some legalities, her daddy might just stop sucking Old Knudsens horn of life if he give away too many secrets. Old Knudsen will just call her 'Duck face.'

I know what yer thinking and yes it could well be misconstrued as a repeat of that nasty Mexico thing from my past, but my parole officer says that as long as I stay away from schools, stables and DIY stores then I may be able to remove the ankle tag by 2017. You can read the full story on my new Facebook page.

Ok, ok, I will admit that there is a little bit of an age difference between Old Knudsen and Fabio, but its ok as its an older man and younger man and not the other way round.

The older man with a younger man means he is a charmer, an experienced lover and giver of quality, perhaps also rich with a huge knob and tight hole.

If I was with an older man he'd be a carefree lover who as he ages becomes insecure about his age as young virile men keep noticing me.

Old Knudsen hopes that the name calling will now stop as people were starting to look at me funny. I was also getting treated differently at me local pub, now the word is out that I'm still as ghey as ever I'm sure they will treat me no differently from now on.       

McKnudsen - I Like Buns

Would you like to go large?

You should all know by now that I'm a Ghey Lord, no wait.... a Time Lord. I can travel through time, space and open boggy fields at the speed of very fast. You should all know from watching TV , films and reading books that you can't change time or you fuck it up in some horrible way and the Time Lords will send the mud raker monsters after you if you do, also that its a good plot device. Well if I could go back and give myself a message, advice or warning what would it be?

When Ugga brings me his wheel design and offers to bring me in as a partner don't laugh in his face, say "yes."

Pull out before I cum when having sex with Jimmy the prison rat Neanderthal to avoid creating the Scots.

Do not invest heavily in Bronze just as the Iron age hits.

Don't holiday in ghey Pompei in 79 AD

Don't give Columbus yer best guess on which way to go because just look how that fucker turned out.

When Alexander Graham Bell tells me about the telephone at a dinner party, don't laugh and call him a cunt saying "will there be wireless phones that can take pictures too?" Invest!

Don't marvel at the Titanic's speed heading towards an iceberg and wonder if the look out has seen it, shout something. That was a swim and a half I can tell you.

Take credit for fighting Hitler to the death and tell the world he was a Gorbesh Demon who go up in flames when you kill them, the world has to know.

Send Britney an e-mail reminding her to wear a pair of gunties when getting out of cars, as gurlies pink bits are so nasty.

Wear condoms when I shag Salma Hayek and Halle Berry and don't let Tom Cruise talk me into giving him a sperm sample that has to be pulled off by him in a quiet room, I'm not sure what he used it for.

Study harder at school so that I don't end up at the age of 40 still flipping burgers for some clown that sounds like his pa may have been Scottish.

When I set up my first Blog give it a deep thoughtful title that won't turn prudes away and don't fucking swear so much or you won't get the right fucking audience, instead you'll get friendly with frigid lezzer pals and sex made cunts who want midget sex and huge cock, no wait that's me.

Keep Your Friends Close, But....

How to be cool. Some are born with it and others are it without knowing. Old Knudsen is cool because someone once described him as being an iconoclast, someone also once called him an outcast, a mongrel, a trash monkey, a jizz hound and that person was way cooler and I bow to their ability to know the real ginger me.

Some people have the Devil on their shoulder telling them to do things, well I really do and when I drink it cums alive and jumps about and tells me who to kill.
I have other tats on my shoulders and upper arms that say, "King of the Queens" and "mum & dad - hate me" also one that says " Better dead than normal"
Yes my skin does look good for its age, that's because I moisturise with my own piss, watch what I eat and bathe in the blood of young run'a'ways. I don't do much to my face as perfection should be left alone.
Being a blogger is an honor not a privilege. I write my stories and an average of 5 mentally challenged mongs a day cum round to read them. Maybe you clicked next blog maybe you were looking for 'midget swallowing horse cum' or maybe you used to read me got bored and came round to check me out before you deleted my link , whatever the reason I thank you. You are a true cunt.

If 'YOU' didn't read me then what is the point to blogging? its not like I do this for me now is it? I do it to annoy a sad lonely ginger boy who thinks he is bigger than he actually is. Yep, you know who you are ya maritime prick.

It makes me feel special when visitors comment, spam or send me legal letters because you went to all that trouble just for me and my craft, yet I hold the power and never publish your dribble. Boo-hoo-to-you-too.

The other day I was about to take a dump after my current boyfriend had just ended our 3 hour relationship via the bathroom window I thought I had nailed shut and I just found out that my dog has a venereal disease, one of the nasty ones, trust me I've just got rid of mine.

I was sitting here all alone when I got a comment from a new person, it went:

" LOL , love your blog its soooo funny it made coke come out of my nose, BTW are you really an old man?" "Are you related to the bitter balls man?" "So glad you came out at last"

It was from an Americunt which is odd as I thought they were all on crack. Coke is so 1980's and as for the old man question I get used to that, fucking rude cunts, a man of mature qualities if you don't mind. Bitterballs is my alter ego, it's an identity I use when I feel like being polite to those dumb bloggers who truly do not know just who the fuck I actually am.

I looked at the new commenter's profiles and they have just started their blog recently and then I looked at their blog and all the mistakes common to a rookie and not something I'd wipe me arse with. The only good blog is a Knudsen blog which is why you either want to do me or want to blog like me ya filthy dirty shites.

I see so many blogs with their posts about bagels, old man cocks and silly green britches, all they have is hope and promise only to be found in a child's eye and I should know cos I have a bag full of them....
I read their posts cursing  and laughing at these Americunts and their childish ways, they really are as bad as the Chinese . Imagine shops that cook and serve bagels I mean those are cute doggies why don't people eat pugs?
When I see people in the street I can tell if they are bloggers or not, the miserable old fat woman holding up the line at the post office obviously has a lot to say and is without a doubt a blogger, the happy young couple don't blog as they are too busy fucking each other's brains out, give them 10 years a few babies and middle age spread and they'll be blogging.
With the exception of at least 5 people my blogging experiences have been great and I am constantly amazed and laugh my arse off at other blogs, of course they are all my other blogs.
Just to let you all know my new blog has made it to the longlist for the most gheyest blogger in durty old Eyeland, home of the muckracking Pope people.

Old Knudsen... beware of imitations. We are everywhere.

Even Ghod & Scarlett Fucks Up Occasionally

Old Knudsen has been busy the last couple days fending off the sexual attentions of some chick by the name of Scarlett that he met in a Belfast ghey bar. It would seem that she was attracted by the smell of piss and my high heeled shoes. I told her I preferred arsehole to pussy hole, but she just wouldn't take no for an answer. Weemen are like that, they like to think they can convert a ghey man from stink hole to the fish market they keep in their panties, but this old queen is not for turning. Old Knudsen never brags unless you count telling what happened bragging of course. I am one of the most important people in the universe as God himself comes to me for ideas and advice. All those cancer curing plants in the Amazon were my idea.

God needs to be entertained as Earth is one of his many reality shows so I put them in the Amazon as a challenge, you can't make things too easy.
Anyway at the moment the Juttron genocide on Xucrin 4 is vastly more interesting for him, he loves a good slaughter, you just have to read yer old testament to see that, oh yeah that was back when there were only 3 worlds to watch and two of them had nothing but photo fucking synthesis on them.

I invited him doon to Miami to join in on the fun, he just yapped yapped yapped about the usual, mostly how I talked him into creating weemen and look at the state of the world.

I pointed out that if you look at the Middle east, world politics, the IRA and UVF, Masonic Nazis and the Minute 'Men' its 99% male. Sure you get the odd silly bint but really I just wanted a warm, soft, jiggly creature to stick ma dick into and talk too and God doth say'th, "What do you want to talk to her for?"
Adam was too busy breaking off sticks to hit things with to talk, not a big thinker that lad, blame him for the state of the world.

Yes weemen if you have a big arse and feel attracted to men wearing caps its all my fault. If not then its the Devils work ya fucking lezzer.

God gets easily distracted and will put a volcano on and fall asleep and forget about it or he'll be making a man and add some bits of teenage gurl on her period by mistake and before you know it you have Americans.

I took God down to my local pub "The Broken Bottle" for a few drinks, that deity is a fuckin lightweight, Buddha can drink me under the table but Yewah is anyones after a couple of piss-like Buds. He was dancing on the table asking people who wants to be a millionaire?
By the end of the night we had a cage match to the death between Mental Eddie and Crazy Rat Sammy, there were Unicorns shitting everywhere because the whole Noah's Ark thing came up, oh it turns out that it was Norah's Ark which is why it ended up on the top of Mount Ararat.

The Raslon nation that was about to nuke Sweden got wished out of existence for a bet not that you will ever remember anything about it.

After 9pm things start to get a little crazy in The Broken Bottle especially on a Saturday which is blood letting night. God ended up going home with a couple of Polish labourers.
When I call God 'He' that's just for convenience sake, I don't think humans can have a real concept of what God is and to do so is just arrogant, unless yer me of course. Those two Poles are in for a right shock.

God is probably sitting on his sofa in Heaven with a hangover and the smell of polish labourers around his belly port flicking the channels on his worlds, while we lesser Gods sit on our sofas with a hangover and the smell of Polish labourers around our cocks flicking channels on our tellys looking for sex and violence.......................just like big G who made us in his er its image but just because we look like God doesn't mean our shit don't stink. Mine certainly does, and definitely the stuff that falls out of Mary Jane's big butt.

Naked, Gay and Free (on parole actually)

Not suitable for human consumptiion

I got the idea from my fellow ghey Bloggers to post a naked picture on Thursday because Thursday is Thor's day who was always going about taking ghey pictures of his man meat which as we all know he got from Mago who got it from some midgets.
The hammer which he named 'Mjollnir' (mine is named 'Kenny' as you all know) was powerful and magic even though the shaft was shorter than usual, it got the job done in other words showing us a valuable lesson that *quality and technique* is better than quantity and amateurishness. (is that a word?)

Yes there are parts of me that have never seen the sun. Back when I was younger the only people with tans were the poor black folks working out in the fields and the rich uns were ultraviolet white and well a tan was just for commoners.

Well for yer titillation enjoy the picture, yes it really is me naked, ghey and free.
I was thinking about having superpowers as I was looking at the young weemen on the bus dressed in their tight revealing leopard skin print clothing with a ton of makeup on shivering in the brisk Fresno evening on their way out to some club to dance around their handbags.

The usual invisibility came to mind as I could feel them up un-noticed or watch them as later on they have a drunken shag bent over a wheelie bin in some romantic alley. Everyone thinks about invisibility how boring.
I then thought of a really good one. The power to fire wet concrete from my hands, like the ice-man but with concrete. I could make it set super fast and get paid millions paving 3rd world countries like Canada or Africa.
If someone shot a gun at me my super thick concrete wall would save me and then fall down on them. I could sneakily put speed bumps on the roads where the little boy racers in their Honda civics tear down or fire out bolts of concrete at Mosques and Synagogues breaking their windows and just stand there looking all innocent.
I would be the master of concrete, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! of course I should have a cool name. I thought about Constructo but that reminds me of the hunky ghey worker in the Village People. So then I though Man-Crete or Con-Man, maybe even Man-Cretion, here is a couple of open questions for you to abuse, what would you call me? and what would yer power be?

I got home with my DVD that I rented out, "Fisting Firemen Four" I had heard good reviews about it and a lot of Oscar buzz.
I opened the box and found they had given me the wrong one, those dopey fuckers. I wasn't going all the way down the road to change it so I put it into my recently *found* DVD player.

It was some space film I had never heard of called, "Space heroes" The hero of the film had a chip on his shoulder when he failed at something resulting in the deaths of millions. He was talking to an alien mate of his who had just made a mistake, he said, "I know how you feel fucking up and all" I'm paraphrasing here. The Alien said "No I welcome what you Earthlings call 'fucking up' because then I get the chance to learn from my mistakes," then he said some words of wisdom that really made me think." Those who never try never fail" this theme makes a comeback near the end of the film when the hero hears those words like Obi-wan Kenobi in Star Wars to Luke and it motivates him. I can't remember too much about the end as I was too pished.

I did learn something valuable, "Those who never try never fail" so to not put yerself in the position of being a loser or failure you should never try. Getting the wrong DVD must have been a message straight from god. Enough, I'm off for a shit and a wank, just not sure in which order though.
*If the police ask thats my story*

Rough, Angry, Animalistic Anal Sex

Ever think that yer partner is the devil? or maybe just a cunting Mud monster? well some enterprising yank has come up with restraining orders to keep away supernatural and paranormal entities for only $5 each. You receive a printed document that bars them from approaching or contacting you.
I wish I had known this when I went through that abusive relationship I had with Mary Jane Lezzer, for she was a zombie! no not an I.T. technician a real zombie.

I'd come home from a hard day at the pub and there would be no dinner on the table, the place was a mess and covered in blood. I found part of a man's arm behind the sofa and confronted her with it, she merely snarled and snatched it from my hands and ate it. Do you know how that feels? no I really hope you don't. To be accused of imagining things and having no proof.

Not only do I think she was seeing other men but I think it was weemen, children and neighbourhood dogs.
I tried to talk to her about my ghey feelings but she'd just lurch towards me and try to eat my brains, it was so belittling to be with someone who dismissed you like that and just saw you as a piece of meat, she wanted me for my brains but not in a nice way.

Why did we stay together for two years? You may ask, well it was the great sex. Rough, angry, animalistic anal sex with wrestling and biting. I knew she was getting bored in the last 6 months of our relationship when she'd just lie there like a dead body, I didn't mind but the vacant look in her eyes told me she was thinking about ripping apart someone else.

I found out who it was when I came home early one day to find her biting the milkman. I just left, well I grabbed the beer from the fridge, broke the remote for the TV and left with tears in my eyes, she had never bitten me like that.

Mary Jane was a strange one, I think once they get a taste of yer blood they can't live without you, she only wanted me when she knew she couldn't have me, she'd jump out at me, bang on windows and leave messages on my phone like "eeeerrrrrrrrrrr" but no I have my ghey dignity, I gave into to her once and we were together for a week before the old patterns started up again, no I was done with her and her promises of eerrrrr and gggrrrrr.

I could have done with a restraining order as Mary Jane has never left my life since our break up, yes you've guessed it, she is now one of the heads at the back of my fridge now. I got enough of her one day when she showed up snarling and waving her arms in a jealous and deadly way in the middle of a three some I was having with the Thompson twins.

Her jealous streak shows when I put another head on the fridge shelf but I have taken back my power now. "Alba Gu Bra!"

Maybe yer ex needs a stake through their heart or a jolly good be-heading but not in a dirty Arab way.

Meet Old Knudsen - He is Better than You

Hey there, you look stupid enough to be an Americunt
Some days you wake up and the sky is grey, yer syphilis is flaring up yer bills are more than you earn and yet again someone has spray painted "Die Knudsen" over yer front door. Then you look at the problems of the Americunt peeple and it puts it all into perspective.
First of all don't give me crap, I've got hemorrhoids that are older than you and with far more intelligence too.
Did I tell you about the time I went to America during the potato famine in Ireland? They were serving some soy substitute and it just wasn't the same so I packed my bags and set sail for the new world aboard the good ship 'Sinker.' When I got to America I couldn't wait to drop anchor in poo bay with all those jolly sailors of Ellis Island, but I saw they weren't very hospitable to immigrants. I saw a lot of 'No Irish' signs and if anyone asked if I was Irish I'd say "No I'm a wannabe Scot so don't insult me, unless its something good then I'll be Irish for ya." I worked as a rent boy at the tender age of 11 and my pride was severely damaged along with my sphincter, do you know what its like having to ask people for their rent every month? I never looked them in the eyes as I wrote out the receipts and told them to trim their hedges.

To survive in America I did things that I'm ashamed off. No, not the horse sex charges, that's for another blog post yer cunts. I once went into a drugstore with a knife and told the guy behind the counter to fill my bag up full of drugs. I had intended to sell them to school kids or other gheys as both have disposable income. The name Drugstore is very misleading.

While we are on the subject, to descend on a rope means you abseil you don't rappel, what the fuck does rappel mean? it sounds like a deodorant young firm teenage boys spray on themselves so thickly that it chokes you just to hide the fact that they don't wash, I never washed up to the age of 53 and never felt the need to smell like a hoors handbag, older ladies also crop dust with the perfume, I know that's to hide the smell of piss stained gunties which I personally fine quite sexy.

C'mon people admit it, you sniff stuff. Weemen sniff things belonging to their man, me when I'm with a dude I rip their gunties off and breath deeply and before you know it I've got a natural painful four hour erection.
Do you see this? ' # ' how the fuck does that look like a pound sign? ' £ ' this is a pound sign as in the currency of civilised countries '#' this is known as a hash sign, don't ask me why, it just fucking is ok? Maybe whoever named it was smokin hash browns or something.

A Cooker is a Stove and for a very good reason. You can't stove yer dinner but you can cook yer dinner on a cooker not a stover.

Tell tale tit. Yer mammy cannae knit, yer daddy cannae go tae bed Withoot a dummy tit.
That's a wee rhyme we sing as children when someone tells on you, rats on you, touts on you, get the idea? Now this saying is as old as the hills so then why do you Americunts call a Dummy a pacifier ? I think that film starring the gorgeously ghey Vin Diesel would of made more sense if they called it 'The Dummy' rather than 'The Pacifier.'

Nappy headed hoes? a nappy is a diaper and a hoe is a thing you shuffle the soil around yer quaint poofy English garden with. But anyway, don't get me started on them darkies..........

Petrol, short for petroleum spirit is fuel for cars. Gasoline or Gas is the stuff that cums out of Mary Jane's ass arse when she farts, which is often. You don't put gas into cars what's wrong with you people?
A baby carriage, does it have horses? its called a pram short for perambulator .
You call a Press up a Push up, Randy is a name but really it means having sexual desire, lustful or horny.

I came to the conclusion that Americunts have issues and just like to annoy other countries, that's why the world hates you. Well... that and the fact that you are so fucking unbelievably loud. That explains the whole need to be the world police when it suits them, Darfur, Zimbabwe, Kenya who cares its Africa?
Hey we aren't British so lets change some words and mess with their heads and then insist its them that's wrong. Fucking Brits with their good tea and bad teeth. Woooooooohooooooooo!!!!! Exactly... unbelievably loud and very, very immature.
Its hard to admit it but I do like the extremely late back up we got in two world wars when the Scottish/British beat the Germans.
I like the fast, loose and easy Americunt men and their need to take naked pictures of themselves and send them to me so I can jerk off.
I used to like Coke now I prefer Pepsi. Heinz and Kraft food products are always welcome on my table, tomato soup, baked beans, ox-tail soup, miracle whip ah bliss.
I like the films or movies which have them saving the world every five minutes and I like their insatiable love of guns and their firm belief that making Donald Duck voices is hilarious. Wrong, wrong so very wrong.
My dream is to have sex with at least one Americunt man in all 52 of their shitty states, I'm not getting any younger and I'm barely halfway there.
Now Mexico and Canada are in North America right? so they are American too then, I had better get a move on. So many years, still so many tight holes.

Hot Cheerleaders I also like, hilariously funny the way they think they are cool, if only you knew how the civilized world laughs at your stupid antics, great spectator sport, but you can keep yer fucking rubbish American football, basketball and yer softball fucking boring, fly fishing is where the action is.
I just rambled on here it seems, I don't care I'm old I get to do that when I first meet peeple, if Americunts fall into the category of actually being real peeple.
Hey there Martin Luther King, nice job you done man, but personally I think Booker T Washington and even Bill Cosby deserve more attention, as they pointed out, its ok to want equal rights but once you have them do something with them instead of whining about whitey and slavery and disrespecting yer big ass weemen.

Fucking darkies, I told ya already, don't get me started on them darkies.......

Blogger Knudsen - A Man on Fire

On a toilet in a mansion in Memphis in 1977 the bottom fell out of my world. I had been an Elvis impersonator, one of the top ghey ones in Miami, in fact hoping to retire before I got old. I had gone through my hip wiggling phase, my ghey sweaty phase, my fat phase and my fat sweaty gospel phase, but the old voice box wasn't holding up too well and rather than cut back to 60 ciggies a day I gave up singing.

I took to officiating at ghey weddings as Elvis and in my time I had married over 2000 ghey couples, but the Elvis thing was over and every nut job was doing it and making it look ridiculous.

Old Knudsen had to adapt and reinvent himself so I looked around to see what else was big, besides, I wasn't actually qualified to marry people since I had just got out of the joint for sex crimes against horses.
Who do the dumb kids love? I asked myself, and so I became a Michael Jackson impersonator and opened up a daycare. One day people stopped bringing their kids over and the police came round and asked all sorts of questions, I think the Catholic Church next door was freaking them out.

After that the only real money I made was when I sold David Kildorf's Apple operating system to Bill Gates for 50,000 dollars.
Mr Gates is amazing, all he started out with was a newspaper round, the clothes on his back and a small paper bag, of course he did have 100 million dollars in the paper bag.
I got into the oil business as all of those cunts are rich.
I went to Kuwait in 1990 and showed them this thing called horizontal drilling, we don't need no stinking borders. The Iraqis took exception and well I don't want to talk about it because that led to my 4th mental breakdown since I came out of the closet.
I became a wandering ghey break dancing crime fighter in Slovenia and then I hooked up with a religious group called Heaven's Gate, they weren't for me to be honest, I mean... I thought I was fucking nuts.
I did manage to part some of them from their hard earned cash by selling them track suits and trainers, nyuk nyuk.
I have since got my sanity back and am looking into selling real estate in Fresno, Donald Trump has expressed an interest as he wants to build a big golf course for rich homosexual types like the Orange Order who play golf when they are not cornholing small children and licking the backs of slime covered toads.

I am on fire with my new career so I shall soon be selling signed photos of my ass and as that cunt Bock is selling badges, because you know about those hearse drivers and their bits of flare, I shall be selling t-shirts as modelled by my good friend Mary Jane the lezzer.

Mary Jane has been missing for the past 24hours since I outed her and her family are very worried. They should be, I actually I sold her to a pair of fake doctors over in Edinburgh for 50 bucks, but it's our secret huh?

Old Fat Lesbian Swinger

As weemen get older Ghod has deemed in his wisdom to make their butts bigger, this makes Old Knudsen most horny as he like some junk in the trunk or is it rubbish in the boot? Not only their butts get bigger, but also their thighs spread like cheap supermarket butter.

Men on the other hand are a different kettle of fish. Either born with what is known as "white boy ass" or as they get older their butts disappear.

Asians have no arses to speak off, Blacks have big bubble butts and Slavs are just fucking dirty so who cares?

Old Knudsen is a most gifted individual, marred only by an over abundance of good looks, intelligence, tact, a huge G-spot finding cock , buns of steel, washing line abs, strong manly arms and a tongue that never quits, my humble modesty prevents me from bragging.

Mary Jane Lezzer on the other hand, well..... she is just a rapidly ageing, fat butt, lonely, no talented seal clubber. I wish she wouldn't keep emailing me about how I make her laugh, cos fat butts shaking just make me cringe. And for chrissakes, someone else tell her that she hasn't the figure for tight jeans let alone green fucking elf shorts.

To show what a nice person I am to those who think I'm a right cunt who throws bags of kittens into rivers and exposes my todger to old weemen on the subway and of course the odd attractive man on the bus. I shall not reply to Mary Jane's emails until she admits that she has more faces than I have alter egos. Not to mention her many chins...........

Top Fun with Old Ghey Knudsen

During the Thatcher regime in Britain we enjoyed having a ton of horny Yank soldiers over, it almost reminded me of the war when I was selling an hour of my three sisters time for American nylons and chocolate, that was during my fat cross dressing phase that I don't want to talk about .
Retirement had bored me plus my sisters had seriously gone down hill in the last 40 years so I signed up for the Ghey Knights jet fighter school at the local US military base.

We all had to be given nicknames or call signs, I had anal fetish about darkies at the time so I was named 'Loosesphincter' the navigator who would fly with me was named 'Duck.' One day we got a top flight instructor call signed Charlie. I was expecting some bloke to come walking in and what do you know I was right, he did have lovely long blond hair though. Charlie went through a dog fight scenario and then asked what I would do, I frowned as if I was giving it some thought but really it was me hemorrhoids acting up and I answered "Kick his pan in" Charlie said that was too aggressive, too intense but I knew he liked me, in a strictly military way of course.

While flying with Duck on a training flight we spotted a couple of Zebulon fighter saucers, the ones George W Bush said didn't exist,  now those damned dirty aliens know better than to mess with Earth after the last time (The battle of Roswell 1947) but they were taking the piss. My instruments told me they had their space rays locked on and I couldn't avoid them so I shouted, "duck" and he said "what?" so I shouted "duck, duck!" but it was too late for Duck to duck and he got zapped, yep his goose was cooked alright.

The plane went out of control, I'm not violent by nature but I gurly-slapped us out of the cock-pit, ever been punched in the cock-pit? its fucking sore, why do they make men's bikes with a high cross bar you can land on? designed by men-haters, er I mean feminists no doubt.

We landed in the freezing sea off the Oirish coast, the water would kill a Canadian or Yank in 15 minutes but not me, being an old semen I tasted the water and I could tell what current I was in. I'd be close to land in about 6 hours, yay! oh they don't bother looking for us as their budget for the 'Homoeroticus expendables' was quite limited. I held onto dear dead Duck and waited to drift home and hoped for his sake we'd get picked up before I got hungry.

Getting back to the base Charlie consoled me about losing Duck, no really, the morgue lost him the useless cunts. I wanted to teach the Zebulons a lesson so after giving a strange darkie or two a BJ, shower, shit and a shave I went looking for another plane. Stabber was recovering after a knife fight so I took his plane along with his navigator Emo. After hearing about how no one understands him and that he just doesn't like navigating he cares about it, oh and don't forget the crying, we took off in search of some revenge.

We jetted through the air and I shouted, "I feel the need, the need for some crack" but all Emo had were a few damp acid tabs so I took them.

On my CB radio I could hear there was a dogfight in progress, the Zebulons had cum out of the sun and shot doon Zipper, Ice-cream man was holding his own, I said, "we lose no more men today" and revved the plane up to 55 mph, I meant business.

Ice-cream man was panicking, "bogeys all over me" he shouted, I spoke up, "use yer sleeve like everyone else ya cunt" and set to work attacking the Zebulons. I shot down two and the other three bugged out.

When we returned to base Ice-cream man came over to me and said "you! you can wipe my nose any day" and placed a cap on my head that said Top Gun on it, I was able to exchange it for one that said "ghey and free."

Charlie got reassigned which is just as well I've had enough unhealthy relationships in my time, with my new hat I got all the darkie cock I wanted and the odd bit of ass too.
I wrote a song about Charlie called, "Take my breath away" it was about how I was allergic to his aftershave and couldn't breathe.

I sold my story to some Yank with more money than sense, no idea why he wanted it of course I left out how we carpet bombed the Zebulon homeworld to stop their attacks, its hard to attack when you are neck high in carpets and the Zebulons aren't very tall.

Old Knudsen is still Buy-Sexual, but he keeps his feet on the ground these days, other than when he has them tucked behind his ears when he is getting pumped up the shitter by Mexican boys. I'm so full of the horn I have to sometimes pay for sex as wanking, pocket pussys, actual cats and jars of liver tend to get dull or go off after a while and I need the thrill, plus I'm fucking sick of eating the liver afterwards, waste not want not.
Don't judge me ya cunts I'm a ghey sex addict so its no my fault.
So seriously no offense to the Yanks. but why would you want to be a fucking American when you could be normal? I just don't get it.

Old War Heroes Never Lie

Bock The Robber
I was walking down the High street in my beloved Eyeland when a black van pulled up along side me. The driver looked over and smiled and asked if I could help him find his puppy, I told him to fuck his puppy and that I had to get home to write a great blog post to keep my readers happy. He then said that he'd give me a lift and that my mother said it was ok, I wasn't sure but then he mentioned he had a bag of raspberry ruffles to share so I got in.

The van smelled like cheap perfume and stale cum, I didn't say anything cos I thought it might have been me. I looked for the bag of sweets and noticed 4 other men all wearing black dresses in the back of the van, I reached for the knife I carry down my sock, but before I could get to it a rope was pulled around my neck and a hood forced over my head, I felt as if I was being pulled from my seat into the back of the van. The rope was getting tighter and as I struggled the men all started to punch me and I became unconscious. I soon had a stiffy.

I woke up with a familiar smell in my nostrils, a mix between piss and horse cum. Fear, terror, being scared and a familiar sexual arousal hit me all at once like the outside air after drinking in a ghey pub all night. I was still in Belfast.
I hadn't been abducted by violent cross dressers it was far worse, it was Protestant holy men. I had run into these type of cunts before with their legal attack dogs, now they really wanted to shut me up.

My captors grabbed me and tied me to a cross and started to play Beatles songs as they began to fellatio me, no that's not right I hoped they would but they flagellated me instead which isn't the same. I screamed "No more fucking overrated poppy hippy music" they hit me harder which was good as it took my mind of the tunes.

Suddenly everything stopped. I could see out of the bottom of my hood another figure had joined us. I recognised his voice immediately it was my old Nemes, Bock the Robber. " See what we do to bad boys who sin Knudsen?" his voice was like a sticky turd that refused to be wiped clean from your ass. " You will tell me what your Blogger password is so we can alter your blogs or you shall suffer."

You know me, I laugh in the face of danger so I said, "Away and fuck yaself cantakerous old homophobe, is it not about time for the schools to get out?" Bock must have gestured cos the air was suddenly filled with Lucy in the sky with diamonds, I screamed like I was once more a pretty boy in prison. "Ok ok its 'blowjob' I use that on all of my blogs cos I can't remember anything."

I also gave them my bank pin number and all the secrets about my fellow bloggers that have been stupid enough to trust me , they didn't ask for that stuff but its good to talk. Sorry Mary Jane, but he now has THOSE photos of you, and I dont mean the clothed one on the swing.

The Bock man chuckled, yet again he thought he had me beat but you should never underestimate the Knudsen. He said "Kill him" and turned around and walked off in that funny hunched back waddle that he is famous for.

His henchmen started to beat me with their fists and bamboo canes, in between hits I mentioned what a waste it was to kill a fella with such a fine looking ass without taking him up the butt first.
They hesitated, one of them in an Oirish accent said, "I only rape young gurls he's not my type, " and an Irish accent then said, " Fat Sparrow you are such a cunt, you're just so gay sometimes, it is a fine ass though, a sin to let it go to waste ," the other clergymen agreed and they started to untie me.

That was it, feigning weakness I slumped and removed my artificial leg, I was still hooded but I had once did a 3 day Ninja course with the CIA so I could fight in the dark and these cunts were in my killing zone. I fought with the fury of a PMSing woman without chocolate, I only wish I could see their faces as they died.

I stood there wobbling, the adrenaline coursing in my body and I removed my hood, I was in some kind of tent. I put on my leg and ran out. I saw Bock and he saw me, he jumped upon a powerful motor bike and took off at speed, luckily there was another one so I straddled that one, its cold seat shriveling my bollocks.

After a boring motorcycle chase with improbable stunts and the firing of lots of automatic weapons the Bocker escaped in an awaiting helicopter as I stood on the ground shaking my ghey fist at him vowing revenge. An armed police team surrounded me with their weapons drawn as a naked ghey man shaking his fist at a helicopter could very well be connected to those Al Qaeda cunts.

I showed them my security clearance that was tattooed on the inside of my anal lips only to be told it was out of date due to lack of payments and I was taken into custody.

Well my dear friends that's my story, I talked the peelers into letting me change my passwords and got bailed out by agent Sax, a beautiful leggy blonde from the CIA , he has never let me down yet.

Someday Bock the Robber, we shall meet again............... No wait! I am Bock the Robber, what a forgettable old cunt I am.

Old Knudsens Alter Ego # 4

Yep, I really am Manuel at times. But you knew that already, right?

I've always wanted to be a waiter believe it or not. My greatest ever claim to fame was my alter ego as Manuel the waiter. Ever since being a small child gazing up as the God like men in the little ghey aprons filled up our glasses with snooty contempt and made us wait for our food as long as they wanted, that was true power. My mother would say to me, "Hey you, thingy, stop staring at the waiters, they're all gheyers you know, unless yer a gheyer of course" which would cause all my siblings and my father to laugh and call me gheyer for the rest of the afternoon, ah happy days.

I've only ever played at being a waiter in MI6 when I posed as one to poison a Russian diplomat or when MJ the lezzer cums round and we play a role playing sex game, "How about I serve you and I give you the tip madam?" "How rude, let me speak to the manager" she'd say in pretend outrage, " Here he is" as I unzipped my trousers, "Dick the manager, time to manage dick if you can handle it, if yer not full up you soon will be." Then I'd give her, her just deserts........ in the arse, just how she likes it.

My waiting dream has cum true, eat yer black cold hearts out....
You've heard of those restaurants that serve sashimi, sushi or whale from the body of a woman, well Billy's Burgers in Killamory has gone upscale and has not only put in more seats and fixed the toilets but is doing that naked thing also.
You would think it was a sexy thing to do but here is the grim reality of it all.
One of the gurls, or platters as we call them, was on her period and one of the customers complained his steak was rare not well done, as soon as we realised that Mags the platter was on her moons we both saw the funny side and he happily ate his steak.
Its hard to get hot young gurls to work naked for $3.50 an hour so some of our platters are shall we say, big boned? Ok then, some of our gurls are big meaty wagons but we worked this to our advantage by filling up their belly buttons with ketchup so as they lie on the table you dip yer french fucking fries into them and the beauty is they fill them up themselves.
I had a customer the other night who said, " there is a pube in my burger" so I said "what do ya want me to do about it?" and he replied " nothing I'm just telling everyone it's fucking class man."
It was class cos his platter was the extremely hot Elena who gets more than $3.50 an hour from the owner.
Some of the Scallyfornia gurls need to work on their fucking manners but they aren't as bad as the hoors from Fresno, the only good thing in Fresno is the number of VD clinics there are there but you could always do with more.

We have Tracy from Canada who we have had nothing but trouble with, we have told her not to smoke when she is lying on the tables as people feed off her naked body, at least wait until they light up (fuck the no smoking laws) also stop farting too, when she gets up there is always a big wet patch and you have to scrub her table down and air it out before you can use it again.

The only reason we don't fire her is because her arse is nice and deep and perfect for the hot fudge sundaes.
I salute some weemen because in the mornings my gag reflex is at ultra sensitive. I've been known to walk down a street, choke and puke in the early mornings, how ghey men take my 12 inches of man meat without choking is beyond me. One of the many reasons I didn't advance far in military ranks is because I kept being sick in the Oirish stew I was preparing.
Breakfast is tough when its early, I reckon I'm no a morning person, just say hello to me and find out.
I once killed a man for saying a cheery "good morning" as I stomped him to death I shouted "whats so go about it huh? huh?" it was during a job interview and I never got it even though I wore a fucking tie.

I had this thing about eggs. I love eggs and I love chicken in fact I lived with a hen as my common law wife once, the divorce was messy but tasty
For a long time In the mornings I couldn't eat eggs because I'd imagine them cumming out of the chicken's bum as I ate and so I would gag. I don't need an anatomy lesson as to where eggs cum out its their bum and that's that.

I've over that now, well I cringe when shell gets into my fried egg when I break it. Which is funny as I have ate things that fell on the floor no probs if only my psychiatrist didn't have that restraining order against me, ah well that's what a blog is for.

Old Knudsen is a Durty Faker

Old Knudsen was hiding in the bathroom at my extreme self defense classes for resentful housewives and aged lezzers last night trying to think of a way to fool you 354 gullible cunts, I mean... loyal readers of my blog on this.

I could say some celebrity died or America was winning a war or some such totally unbelievable shite, but it hasn't fooled too many over the last 6 and a half years, well ok there was the odd mong that googled Shatner's death ........... you know who you are. Have you caught the lie yet? yes my lovely reader there are not others stupid enough to read my blog you are alone. In fact Old Knudsen can't even be arsed to pretend there are others by making fake comments like all the rest do.

Well ok, except for Mago and Bock the Robber, Old Knudsen does not have any other fake profiles.

In between kicks to the groin from Mary Jane lezzer (pictured above, but when she was still attractive) which did make me quite horny I came ............................ to the conclusion that whatever I say today will not believed as my reader is now too smart even though they are still reading so consider yerself an Oxymoron which means yer strong as an ox and as thick as ox shit.

I should explain that self defense is handy when I cum across odd lone weemen in the park, being a hand to groin expert I let the ladies beat me up for practice. They prefer the kicks and punches while I like to wrestle, it just took them only a week to become fast on their feet, quick learners damn it.

So today I have many confessions to make: Old Knudsen is not old, he is an Americunt from Florida before he moved to Texas and then Callyfornia. He is a pacifist, he never served long in any armed forces (Old Knudsen deserted twice from the Marine Catering Corp) he didn't once or twice take the Queen of London up the shitter. He is ghey for chrissakes, weemen leave him cold. He does actually smell like piss, a total homo he does get aroused by gurlyboys from Thailand, he did not leave Bobby Turner for dead in the trenches of Flanders, Bobby was well and truly dead before I went through his pockets.

He has never committed a crime in his life (other than sex crimes) and was in the Coast guard and gurl scouts never the regular army other than peeling taters. He is not Scottish, Irish or even English. He is a mongrel, a witless child dragged from army base to army base by his alcoholic stepmother. He doesn't spit at bartenders to get their attention and has never taken a shite in the toilets on display at Home Depot, he also tips waiters ................ with money, apart from that insipid cunt Manuel who is gheyer than Davie Crockett's hat.

Ok, with that said I have to go as I am adopting a darkie child from a third world cuntry of New Mexico. Old Knudsen loves children, especially boys and is a positive role model fer the wee cunts. 

Young Boys, Old Men

Old Knudsen was feeling in a reflective mood, thinking about past loves as he was going through his massive collection of sex tapes purchased secretly in Thailand.
The Jedward twins are lovely lads, each furnished with a shapely ass and nipples like rivets. Old Knudsen met them in 2011 on a beach in Southern Callyfornia. If ya look up Old Knudsen's dating profiles you'd see he likes long walks on the beach, he also likes sunsets, anal bleaching, young guys with cum stiffened hair and of course pissing through door letterboxes.

Most other ghey boys who haven't met Old Knudsen yet never know that a part of them is dying with despair and loneliness as they don't know any better and as soon as they met him its like their life makes sense at last and they are complete and at one.

Ghey men want to do Old Knudsen and butch weemen want to be him.... its a fact. Some straight men want to do him too, yes you know who you are ya naughty boys.

We hit it off right away, Old Knudsen filled that certain gap in their life that um needed filled. Old Knudsen was working as a stuntman/bounty hunter at the time, but Jedward didn't like him facing danger on a regular basis and begged him to quit. They wanted Old Knudsen to be a kept man a trophy boyfriend that they would sex up and bend over backwards to please night after night, day after day with tons of coke to snort and other sexy pop tarts to join in.
Old Knudsen was convinced. He enjoyed the feeling of young skin outside of old flesh.

Soon the great sex with 2 of the hottest boys in Eyeland and the constant sex parties got a bit boring and Old Knudsen yearned to get beaten up or take a fall down some stairs again.

I love you both but I'm not in love with you, its not you its me ...... well it is you a little bit like when you fart and you yell " Krakatoa!" that's a bit annoying especially during sex or when we have company over for dinner...... Old Knudsen shouts "Jackpot!" when he farts btw but only when there are lumps.

We broke up. They took it as you would expect and Old Knudsen had to get a restraining order. Jedward kept their hair gel and I kept the Tupperware collection. Afterall, all's fair in love and whore.


Shoot First Take Pictures Later

British Special Farces today rescued yet another Canadian do gooder/aid worker kidnapped in Afghanistan. Seal clubbing the raggies is a no no I'm sorry to say. Much better to send them all to Eyeland, give em free council houses, benefits and free dental, then watch from behind your curtain as they prowl your street at night murdering your cats for fresh meat and bare faced fun.

Mary Jane Lezzer, 28, some unnamed darkie in his 30's and two Afghan civilians were rescued by a couple of arky-olygists in ghey hats in an early morning raid after being kidnapped on 22 June in Badakhshan province. One of them had a whip, while the older one wore crotchless chaps. It was hot, ok?

British troops, helped by ISAF forces as well the Afghan government, took part in a long route march, sponsored by Adidas, without being discovered until they reached their goal.

A number of Taliban and hostage-takers were killed. Fucking 'A' we rule! Now Old Knudsen was busy and couldn't make it to the rescue..... Ok ok he wasn't asked because he is tagged and under curfew after the incident in the Bronx petting zoo. Fucking monkeys.... trying picking THAT out of your red baboon ass.
Animals do not like Old Knudsen ....... WTF you ask, how could anyone not like Old Knudsen? Oh believe me there have been many.... Maximilien Robespierre, Ayatollah Khomeini, Idi Amin, Pol Pot, Adolf Hitler, Joesph Stalin, Rafael Trujillo, Dick Cheney, Saddam Hussein, Justin Bieber, General Pinochet and a few others. Old Knudsen feels blessed to have been hated by these as then he knows that he is on the side of the ghey angels.

Even Darkie Obama sees Knudsen as an old cannon loose on the deck in the storm, an on the edge burned out fly in the ointment....... Fair comment, Old Knudsen does like to shoot first and take pictures later. So what? Me and Indie kicked raggie ass and lived to tell the very tall tale to you ungrateful cunts.

Ya see yer problem, you Yanks, yer too fucking lazy. Ach don't tell Old Knudsen ya don't drive around a crowded Wal Mart car park for an hour waiting until some one closer to the entrance leaves so ya don't have to do any extra walking.

We Oirish Catholics will ghost walk cross country in the dark for miles and miles or walk stooped over for the last 15 miles so we aren't detected, you lot ride in on Black hawk whirly birds like yer John fucking Wayne in plain daylight and then get surprised when a raghead with a RPG shoots them down.

Oh look a Koran, I bet ya want to burn it right? .... nope wrong answer ya dope Hitler burned books, ya don't burn books not even the shite ones you recycle them as toilet paper ..... remember to always floss..... oh and trust me on the sunscreen.  C'mon Indie, it's time for our bath......

So Very Very Wrong

Old Knudsen is secure enough about his tiny manhood to let another man suck on his abnormally small cock, usually daily whenever I have enough money.
Some pastor in America (had to be a fucking Americunt of course) said recently that you should put gheys into death camps and let them die out to get rid of them. An example on the lack of critical thinking in modern day religion. It's straight people's fault for having ghey babies ya dumbass! If they die out another batch will take their place. Duh!

A lifestyle choice or an act of nature? who gives a fuck? its here and if we gheys are happy then let us be, don't go projecting yer issues onto us.  Those going on about prayer being a cure for gheyness should prey that their stupidity also gets cured.

Old Knudsen's take on ghey marriage is simple, let us get married, why should gheys not be miserable like everyone else?
In life if it makes people happy and isn't hurting anyone then do it. Life is too short to waste hating and worrying ....... fuck me, I hate worrying, it gives Old Knudsen grey pubic hairs.

If it keeps some right wing bible thumping tea bagger up at nights foaming at the mouth about it being only between a man and a woman then yon tea bagger should stop being so fucking nosy fixating on what gheys are getting up to and either go look up ghey porn online like we all do or get a life.

Old Knudsen's take on sodomy: Good fun fer all the family. Up the bum no babies, any port in a storm.... as Old Knudsen says, "well I came, now go make me some tea."
Old Knudsen's take on ghey couples adopting children: Old Knudsen just looks around his bitter neighborhood of Ballygofuckya , the little 5 year -old fuckers running about the road unsupervised, the half-wit boy allowed to jump on his trampoline well into the wee hours while its cold and wet, the ma slapping the face off her kid and dragging it by the arm along the ground ........... some people just shouldn't be allowed to have children full stop. Mary Jane Lezzer for one.....

Old Knudsen judges you on yer actions, no excuses like yer an alcoholic or you were fiddled with and you have to abuse back. Old Knudsen will kill you for being a cunt not for what you are. You have the choice to be a cunt or not. Old Knudsen may well be a cunt, but he is the best looking cunt ever.

Good parents are hard enough to find and I don't think that children will mind if their parent is ghey or not as long as they are loved and feel secure. They will only mind if some adults have taught them to hate or have taught them that it is wrong. More cough linctus, I'm on a roll here!

Many redneck fathers want their kids to grow up just like them or want to make a man out of them and that involves putting others down or in their supposed place. A father treating his wife like a second class servant or slapping her about instead of treating her as an equal teaches the child to do the same. A father complaining about the niggers and beaners teaches a child to do the same. A father lying and cheating teaches the child to do the same, weemen are also just as responsible with their actions too.

Consenting adults can do what they like. Except phart...  when weemen phart Old Knudsen cringes. Ghey man love can be found in the strangest of places and who is to say (besides Old Knudsen) what is wrong or what is right? Sometimes Old Knudsen cums over a little queer in the butchers looking at all the bones.

Its funny that in the back woods of Eyeland you'll find more overly camp gheys than in America. The muck rakers are a very insecure race and so they still feel the need to make a statement and get in yer face. Fucking Americunts and their friendly fire.....

In America you'll find gheys that are just ghey, no statement to make, no need to shock the breeders. Unless they cum from a small narrow minded mid-west town then they are fucked as the mid-west can be very similar to parts of the UK. Fresno for instance, they took umbrage just because that rather handsome llama backed onto my cock just as my belt snapped and my pecker fell out. Gestapo bastards!

There is still a lot of homophobia in the world as there is a lot of racism, sectarianism, sexism and general bigotry about stuff folks feel threatened by.
The majority of the human race are cunts and Old Knudsen doesn't hate them because they are black ghey Jews, he hates them for getting on like pricks.  Don't get me started on them darkies.....