RIP Papa Knudsen

I am a deserter



I've been busy training with the Taliban army again this weekend, I'm desperately running out of cuntries to accept me as a citizen, so pardon me if I haven't had a chance to reply to all of your fucking mong emails currently laying on the not welcome mat back at base camp. Three years ago this Monday I regret to inform you all that Papa Knudsen whose thin, greasy, watery seed created the greatest Blagger ever, passed away. He died knowing that his ginger son was a cowardly British army deserter, a pretender, a wearer of fake medals, a faux parade marcher amongst true hero soldiers. Basically, Old Knudsen, the scumbag that you read about everyday is a ghey, bunny-eyed fraud.

While cumming out of his usual 24 hour homo porn shop he was accosted by 50 burly and very angry Orange Drummer Boys. The Drummer Boys wanted him to create a blog denouncing me, our murdering religion, toothpaste, soap and deodorant. Now while he was all too happy to oblige his stubborn Catholic streak told them all to fuck off. He swung his mighty Celtic battle axe slaying 20 on one side and 20 on the other the last 10 ran like the slippery Orange mongs they are and so he had to chase them down, he doesn't do running and only managed to get a further 6.

He stood cursing them for the wusses they are and chanted the Knudsen chant, "Cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt!" we Knudsen's are not very deep.

Poor papa Knudsen or Belfast Knudsen the Sinn Fein hero, as he was called due to his political stance, staggered home and shouted for my Ma, Bridget, to put the kettle on, he went up to bed for a wee rest and died of his broken heart. His son was a coward, an army deserter, it was all too much for his pacemaker. Like a true Knudsen he still held onto his battle axe and newly rented pornos.

His longboat along with many British bars and Post offices will burn again in his memory this very night. You will be sorely missed my great father, I honour you in blog if never in life. I will continue to wear your old military uniform to pick up many more gullible young men... and fuck them.
Do you mongs honestly think I sit around going "oh what am I going to post? I don't have a clue, how can I make people like me and get lots of readers?" well I don't cos I'm an openly ghey man on the edge ya see.

I am having a full and busy weekend cos on the edge yer out there doing it fer real, this ain't no TV show where you get loads of takes to get it right and this ain't no reality show with set up scenarios. I could be taking a dump on my latest young mans chest and I'll get the buzz on my head implant giving me orders, sometimes its confusing as God often talks to me or the heads in my fridge. Mention the heads to the police and I'll deny everything and have you killed, there is still room on the top shelf next to the many tender goat penises. 

I once joined this Fresno biker gang called the Rough Riders, their motto is "Weeman are for poofs" cos they are too tough to hang about with gurls. I've been through a lot in my cowardly life, maybe I'm getting too old or I wasn't hard enough for these guys, or hardness has gotten harder and more firm. Sadly my BMX could not keep up with their motorbikes so I had to drop out. I didn't get a refund on my membership nor the DNA samples they took from my member, their vetting procedures were very thorough and all done from a hole in a public toilet wall.

Well I believe I've once more been hung out to dry since my deportation by the Americunts, the same thing happened to Bond. They declassified him and as soon as he walked into any Indian casino the bad guy stroking the pussy knew who he was. Not very good for a spy, but by showing my falsely obtained green card I can occasionally still get work in hardware stores and in KFC on Wednesdays.

I went on a mission to Mars. Yes I know it takes years to get there but when yer huffing Methylated spirits you can take a short cut. I know meth kills but so does having a crap just ask Elvis about that. Yes we found a face on Mars, some say its signs of a former civilisation and others have dismissed it as a trick of the light. I don't know I can't really see anything, like those magic eye pictures I never got them either. We did find water on Mars, well after we dumped out our toilet reservoirs maybe something will evolve from it or from the parasites in my shit.

Did I ever tell you I was a soldier on Mars? Needless to say I deserted from that army too.

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