I don't care if gheys marry or gheys adopt kids, leezers shouldn't be allowed to conceive children cos if my cock isn't good enough for them then my jizz mustn't be either, so they can fuck off until they cum round begging for my man muck.
I don't think bi-sexuals like Mary Jane should raise children, they are the dithering gheys that can't make up their minds and in my experience of the two I've known I don't trust them, very unstable, fucking nuts in other words.
How did Anna-Nicole's baby end up with a bi-sexual then? Larry Birkhead, liked to burn the candle at both ends so to speak, lets hope he raises the money... er the child well.
I'm more aware of ghey things than some are. That film Life on Mars mentioned it to my delight, the patterns you can find in ghey life if you just notice things, more to do with omens and the whispers of the spirits than electrical cords wrapping round yer neck. Martians really do exist. I know, I lived amongst them while I was training with the secret special farces Martian marines in 67.I listen with my ears and talk though my ass....... I am green when it comes to weemen and telling the truth, but my cock is very pink with a brown tip (answers on a postcard if you can guess why)
I type this and as I do I can hear faint music on the air, I call it "The Devils Radio" it plays at night when I'm trying to sleep, so faint I'm not sure I even hear it, but its there with songs I sort of know but can't quite place, if I go out to listen for it I won't hear it at all, I hear it when I'm not trying.
Then theres the party in the next room, as if there are 20 people in there but I can only hear them muffled, if I listen at the door the voices die out as if they are all turned towards the door waiting for my next move before talking again.
I do know the difference between hallucinations and what is there and only I can pick it up, I am open to the existence of other realities and so they present themselves to me. The ancient Celts believed that the spirit world could be seen at times out of the corner of yer eye, I used to get followed to work by someone everyday, for some reason they just like to watch probably just glad that someone can see them as if can get frustrating for them talking but no one listening, now you know how trees feel.
I sometimes wish I was a one dimensional mundane type of person in blissful ignorance of their own issues without a deep thought in their head at all, the kind of person I annoy easily when I tell them why they behave in such a way for them to knee jerk deny and get defensive, some people hate to be read they think they are such a closed book.
I envy a life of contentment with being happy working in a dead end job, talking about football everyday and saving for one holiday in Spain a year, no depression, no passion and no brilliance or the pain that goes with it.
Brilliance? is that self-inflation, boasting or telling the truth ? I must try to remember, people actually hate the truth, it scares them. Living on Mars suits me cos I am way out there in la la land.
Anyway, years back when Old Knudsen was young, strong and vital, when his hair was grey with only a few flecks of white and and the age spots could pass for freckles he was a big city cop, well it was more like a summer job, they gave me a badge and a gun and I had fun shaking down the Hookers and legally shooting people in the back that ran from me, this really surprised the shit out of some of the joggers in the park, well if they didn't have those Walkermans on they would have heard me.
One case I had was a young Amish boy who had witnessed a murder, it unravelled corruption high up in the Police force, thankfully it had nothing to do with my own murder extortion racket, nowhere was safe for him so I decided to hide him in a place no one would ever think of looking for an Amish boy, an Amish Community with distant family members, oh yes, Old Knudsen has always had his cunning.
His mother was a tall gangly widow woman who kept giving me the eye, well it wasn't her fault one looked one way and the other looked the other way, she had this annoying habit of washing half naked with the door open, yeah like I wanted to see that, armpits like a French woman she had.
To fit in I wore Amish clothes and a fake Captain Ahab beard, luckily my gun was a small effeminate 38 revolver that fit neatly down my sock, no Magnum for me, I leave the penis issues to Dirty shameful Harry.
We had a computer building day in which all the surrounding Amish come round and help whittle modems and DSLs , if you think Dial up is slow you should try a Wooden Amish computer, their system AOL (Amish On Logs) says, "you've got wood" when you receive mail, the Amish net is only on from 4 am to 5 pm, that's more than enough time to read the many Blogs on pitch forks and cheese making, (all of which have since been copied by that bastard Mago)
One case I had was a young Amish boy who had witnessed a murder, it unravelled corruption high up in the Police force, thankfully it had nothing to do with my own murder extortion racket, nowhere was safe for him so I decided to hide him in a place no one would ever think of looking for an Amish boy, an Amish Community with distant family members, oh yes, Old Knudsen has always had his cunning.
His mother was a tall gangly widow woman who kept giving me the eye, well it wasn't her fault one looked one way and the other looked the other way, she had this annoying habit of washing half naked with the door open, yeah like I wanted to see that, armpits like a French woman she had.
To fit in I wore Amish clothes and a fake Captain Ahab beard, luckily my gun was a small effeminate 38 revolver that fit neatly down my sock, no Magnum for me, I leave the penis issues to Dirty shameful Harry.
We had a computer building day in which all the surrounding Amish come round and help whittle modems and DSLs , if you think Dial up is slow you should try a Wooden Amish computer, their system AOL (Amish On Logs) says, "you've got wood" when you receive mail, the Amish net is only on from 4 am to 5 pm, that's more than enough time to read the many Blogs on pitch forks and cheese making, (all of which have since been copied by that bastard Mago)
They once clicked on to Mary Jane lesbians blog, chickens dropped dead, milk soured and they were set back 40 years into a time of dark foreboding and superstition , of course there wasn't much difference than now.
They wanted me to get up at some unreasonable time to help with the milking, I said nothing gets up at that time, just ask the former houseboys that Knudsen had chained up in the bedroom, you'll be lucky if anything gets pulled before noon, I don't do mornings, oh those bastards didn't like that, going on about 'the Oirish and their filthy drunken lazy Olster ways' well no one calls me a muck raker and gets away with it, but alas they won't fight you, but they will spit into your gruel. I wasn't complaining, I was jizzin in theirs, it made it taste better.
They wanted me to get up at some unreasonable time to help with the milking, I said nothing gets up at that time, just ask the former houseboys that Knudsen had chained up in the bedroom, you'll be lucky if anything gets pulled before noon, I don't do mornings, oh those bastards didn't like that, going on about 'the Oirish and their filthy drunken lazy Olster ways' well no one calls me a muck raker and gets away with it, but alas they won't fight you, but they will spit into your gruel. I wasn't complaining, I was jizzin in theirs, it made it taste better.
I had to stay in touch with my partner on the outside to see if it was safe yet, he's a likable overweight family guy that gets killed off halfway through every case, Amish phones are also made from wood, hence my ear full of splinters , the bad guys traced the call and were coming to drill me full of holes like a piece of cheap plywood.
Old Knudsen had to brutally slay some of his fellow cops in a bloody shoot out, they were Vice cops so no doubt high, easy targets. Soon it was just me and my crooked Police Captain, he grabbed the Amish boy and held him up as a human shield, Old Knudsen cracked his neck aimed his gun at the captain and said, "you're fired", bang bang bang, 3 shots to the head, well into the boy's head, I tell you it wasn't my fault, the wee shite moved, besides I had grain in my crack from fighting detective Harden in the silo, we used to call him 'Defective Hardon' , ah cop humour.
Well the widow woman wasn't too happy, the Captain complimented me on my tight grouping on the boy's head and suggested I shoot with my eyes open next time, we shook hands and called it a draw.
It all worked out well in the end, in the sense that I got to go home, Amish T.V. is so dull, the beard trimming Network is the highlight, now and again I'll see an Amish and stick an ice cream in his face and remember the good old days. Sadly the Pennsylvania police still want to ask me some questions, hence why I have returned to my home planet of Mars for a while.
