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.

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