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.

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Go ahead... shat on me again.