Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Old Knudsen introduces himself and rambles on (age will do that to you)

Old Knudsen comes from where the wind is cold and truth is seen through keyholes; where the men were men and so were the women sometimes. Ah well, any port in a storm.

During the 80's I worked at sea a lot; I caught crabs for a living. NO! Ya dirty fuckers, Old Knudsen wasn't a man whore, he was a fisherman. I caught lobster too, and if they had went around me pubes they would have snipped my huge cock off.

Old Knudsen had strong hands back then; many a fellow would marvel at my grip. They would ask me to squeeze things, and I could make a grown man cry like a baby. It was such fun. They used to rib me, saying,"Young Knudsen, you have hands like a girly-boy, you can pull my creels in and I'll make a man of you." Those beautiful bastards, it brings a tear to me eye to be recalling such things.

Us fisher folk were always cold and smelling like fish, and so were the hookers that hung around the docks. No, Old Knudsen never paid for that pleasure; anyway that's none of your business, fuck off.

We never got very many of those funny boys with the frilly cuffs, lipstick and hair so full of hairspray that they could become human matches if they got within 6 feet of a naked flame. Well, Old Knudsen knew of the odd one during National Service; you Americans would say "don't ask don't tell," we would say, "backs to the wall."

You know how in nature if an animal was sick or weakly, it would be killed by its own? Well that's the attitude many had in Old Knudsen's town, when we saw a weedy little boy with a pale white face and lipstick. It just brings out the nature in us, poor boy must be at odds with himself. We wouldn't kill him, that's just savage and cruel. No, we would just thrash him soundly and humiliate him, making sure to shave something. I mean, we weren't animals. Of course this explains queer bashing, not the kind of bashing they like, but hey that's all natural. Blame the Lord Almighty, it's not their fault at all.

Old Knudsen has nothing against turd burglars, Catholics, or any type of bum bandit. If Old Knudsen did have anything against them Old Knudsen would wear several layers of clothes, and wrap himself in plastic and wear goggles. They can do whatever they want, as long as no one gets splashed.

Hey, did you know that Liberace was gay? Yes, it was a surprise to me also but there you have it. The man was a genius, he even had a piano in his swimming pool; now that's class.

If you see Billy One Ear don't mention it to him, or anything about his dead wife. He went on the run for killing her, but don't worry, he was cleared later. He still gets a little touchy at it for some reason. The man has fists of fury, one minute you're talking footie to him and then BAM! you're on your back with a crowd around you. Thank God that with years of alcohol old Billy is a little slower. His glory days are having been a minder for the guy from Abba, not the fat bearded one but the dork that looked like a frog.

The 80's was when all the big stars were in their prime. Paul McCartney was forever youthful and having hit records all over the place, I liked that pipes of peace one, then he had that song with Michael (I would never hurt children, I just sleep with them and fiddle about, "Honey I diddled the kids"), Jackson, that one was more like a big smelly number two.

All that ya ya ya banjo music and catchy videos, no wonder the young people's heads were turned. Fake shoulders, fake genders, flock of fucking bastarding seagulls, did you see that hair? Either they weren't hugged enough as a child or they were hugged too much by their gym teacher. Either way, they wanted attention, so we beat them up.

Nothing personal, next time just put a sign saying "kick me" on your back.

Old Knudsen

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