Digging the Dirt with Old Knudsen

So many pleasures to be found in the garden.

Old Knudsen got to thinking the other day when he stood there in the playground stroking his puppy and jiggling his bag of sugary treats, children are not our future, they may be a potential source of food but at the moment they are the unwitting perpetrators to global warming due to the amount of gas they emit after eating junk food and pharting out their stench upon the rest of the world.

If there is one thing that really chaps Old Knudsen's thighs it's younger peoples pharts, especially filthy children pharting out deadly silent gas for my old lungs to breath in. Inconsiderate little bastards the lot of you. Old Knudsen is miserable today, his piles are bleeding again and he has shat in his pants for the second time this morning. Split pea soup and cough medicine play havoc on the lower intestine at my time of life. When Old Knudsen is feeling miserable then every fucker is gonna be miserable, so I'm going to tell you about a very memorable miserable time in my life. If you don't have anything happy to blog about then write yours up after you have read mine, then your current miseries may not be so bad, I doubt all your christmas' were white, and no sad stories of how your old dog died at christmas unless it dies in a really funny way, understood?

Do you know how I spent my 17th birthday? well I'll tell you, I was in the Glasshouse on the special wing. For those civies or dumb Canadians out there, that's a military prison for deviant sex cases. I was left to the whims of the crazed ghey sergeants and corporals of the military police, if you know anything about the British army (which I actually don't, but let's all just pretend I do) you'll know that the MPs and the physical education NCO's (Non commissioned officers corporals etc) are the meanest and most sadistic gheys of the lot and that's saying something. I'm not just talking about a cactus up the shitter here, no, I'm talking about much much worse. Sharpened pencils up your Jap eye, sandpaper on your bell-end and pickled saveloys up your hole. Why let a poor inwardly ghey soldier do things the easy way when you can make their life a living hell instead? That was their thinking, give an asshole a little power and that's what happens.

Me and my fellow ghey prisoners were stripped of our green coveralls and made to run naked all over the camp picking up trash and cigarette ends with our butt cheeks, then we had to go to a nearby field where the General liked to swing his golf club and look for stray golf balls which we had to carry back in our mouths. All the while I was being treated like shit by the NCO's and it gave me my first taste of sado-masochism of whuich I still practice twice a week. Any soldiers that didn't like the taste of his own piss was branded as socially abnormal.
I was incarcerated and sexually abused by rough handed old men for a week ,(yep, even bad things can be good.) A week is not that long considering what I did, what did you do? I hear you shout, I shot a man to watch him die, shocked? I then received the nickname Notoriously Dangerous Knudsen, or N.D. Knudsen, you're not buying any of this are you? Well its true except I only shot a fellow soldier in the foot and that was by accident, ND actually stands for No Dick, and the nickname did stick, they would have thrown me out but they needed all the fit young healthy ghey men they could find to go and die for their country in the trenches of France.

Thankfully most of my pretend regiment got wiped out at Ypres and only those that knew my nickname didn't know where it came from so I became Notoriously Dangerous which I remain to this day, especially around young uns, nyuk nyuk..

After being dishonourly discharged for sucking off three corporals and a mess chef behind the toilet block, I was working at a burger joint on Christmas eve and when I was done it was too late to buy food as all the shops had closed and the day that X-mas was on was nowhere near a pay day so I was flat broke. Normally I would have stood in an alley with my fly undone and drummed up some cash by touching my toes or gargling semen from some durty passer-by, but the weather was poor and so was I. Old Knudsens Catholic family were too far away in Haggisville and hadn't invited me over, not an over sight, they just fucking hate me and my appetite for risky sex. The soup kitchens had some stale bread on offer, but it's awkward going back in there after they discovered me with my finger up the hole of a drunk dude in a wheelchair. Hey, you gotta take your sexual kicks where you can get them, ok?

I didn't ask as even old perverts have pride, so I retired to my small lonely bed sit and looked at the food I had in the cupboard. One apple core, a few crackers and a 5ltr tub of anal lube. The burger joint was going to be closed on Christmas day so no fresh buns to put my meat inbetween on the sly. For Christmas dinner I had some crackers covered with gravy (the same thing I had for breakfast) the last of my flat coke and I went for a walk around the 5 or 6 stores in the main street, none where open of course. I got to sneer at the other sad lonely fuckers walking their dogs and then I thought, well at least they have dogs, the bastards.
I really don't know just how I got through the long day waiting for the young uns to appear on their new bicycles in the park, but I did find a few bucks in a purse I stole from an old woman going into her church for Holy Mass. I spent the bulk of it on animal porn and prescription drugs, family sized buckets of KFC and I squandered the rest. Happy memories from an unhappy old cunt.