All the people, those lucky people, everyone thinks that Old Knudsen spends his day with Orson Welles and Huge Hefner drinking brandy, smoking cigars and fucking blond schoolboys who all look like Ken dolls, well that's only on weekends. I am in rehab the rest of the week so I don't get out as much as I would like, let's not forget that I am usually shellfish shucking between the hours of 6 thru 5 just to earn a crusty crustational crust. Let us not forget, a war pension is only worth as much as the name you stole from the war memorial. In my case, Joan Mavis Ollerenshaw. But you can call me Joanie.
I'm a normal looking ghey old person, well ok maybe I'm a little bit of an immortal, immoral Time-Lord/fallen Angel kind but still I'm the normal ghey bloke on the street leering at young Mexican men while wearing my usual piss stained pants and egg smeared shirt. Business in the park has never been better since I started hanging out (pffftttt) with my extra large bag of Werther originals and a gummy bear surprise.
Speaking of fun in the park, thank you to all the well wishers that supported Old Knudsen in his quest for running the ex-serviceman's marathon in London last month. Nearly $2.54 was raised for the charity 'Knudsens War Deserters' oh and you'll get yer fucking money stop bugging me about it ya spongers. In the words of Father Ted, the money is merely resting in my account.
Old Knudsen believes in keeping lubricated during feats of intense exercise and also during bowel movements which at his age are feats of intense exercise. It was the keeping hydrated which caused Old Knudsen to step onto a bus 2 miles into the run, by accident of course as the sun came out and in London that is a rare occurrence.
Old Knudsen was blinded by it and stumbled onto the bus and to add to the confusion 3 people burst into flames due to whatever their fake orange tans were made from.
The bus wasn't going anywhere near the finish line no matter how much Old Knudsen swore at the driver. So getting off I had to go into the nearest pub to hydrate and lube up my balls some more. Go on, take a picture it'll last longer, its like some people have never seen anyones balls deep in Vaseline while waiting for their friends to cum.
$2.54 doesn't go very far but as soon as you tell folk that yer a plastic veteran of wars foreign and domestic and that yer running for 'War Deserters' drinks will be bought for you. Pissed into first admittedly, but free is free, right? Plus Old Knudsen's charm is irresistible, just ask any Mexican schoolboy under the age of 16.
Cut a long story short Old Knudsen ended up in the middle of nowhere near a big bridge. The people all spoke with funny accents, ate large burgers and didn't know where the finish line in Battersea was. Must have been the damn Americunt quarter he stumbled into. Old Knudsen was very lucky not to have gotten raped or raked in the back with friendly fire there.
Old Knudsen had to call in a few favours to get to the finish line. Do not trust the oxygen systems on those F-22 Raptors if yer ever on one that's all Old Knudsen is saying, imagine what Old Knudsen would be like if his brain had been deprived of oxygen. He might have started to sound like those Trolls in Northern Bog trotter land. And that would not have been funny at all. "What-a-be-what-a-boo-what-about-yis-son" is a big step down from the ghey lingo back in Fresno, I can tell you.
My eventual finishing time was 11 hours and 41 mins which is pretty good considering I took some time out to hang around outside a few school gates in my old man baggy shorts, especially as I actually managed to cum first on 2 occasions. The park was sadly closed and Old Knudsen had to climb over the wall but he made it by Jove.... Ghod bless the motorcycle I say.
Afterwards I went to McDonald's for me breakfast only to be informed they don't do breakfast after 10.30am, it was 3.45am for fucks sake so I called out the manager and tore him a new one about how if it wasn't for me he'd be speaking Japanese. He was quite grateful as he was Chinese so gave me a free Quarter pounder right up the ring piece, which made my eyes water and my buttocks quiver in pleasure. I can't moan, even though it came without cheese and extra pickle, you all know how I take me Quarter pounder...... nude, red and raw.
I don't like those fucking breakfasts anyway so they can fuck off, people think I'm crazy ....... crazy like a ghey Fox, if the Fox had rabies then it would be crazy I suppose, what if a Rabi had rabies I'd laugh me arse off over that one that'll teach him for cutting off baby willy's those big nosed deity killers.
I was sitting down tolerating my poor quality food when I heard that song, "I like to move it move it" I do like to move it but only on the toilet or on the dance floor to a Kylie song. But that's another story. Gotta go, I feel another McDonalds revenge great escape coming on.