I was just kicking back and chilling with my old mate Bruce Boxleitner who you may remember from the TV series Bring em back alive and the hit film Tron.He prefers to come over to Killamory rather than me going to his Hollywood home because his wife Melissa Gilbert gets freaked out when I stare at her with my hands in my pockets.
I don't know what her problem is, big star 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 few years from being 60 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 Melissa 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.
Blair is taking credit for the shaky peace in Northern Ireland and Bush is trying to bring peace to Israel and Palestine by going to everywhere but Palestine giving his support, money and weapons.
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 pedo as will Gary 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 reason.
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 doon the bog though.
When you normal people die and you haven't achieved the Blog greatness that I have I wonder what you'll be remember 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 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 so I don't have to get up and go and have a shit also its doon to 40% chance of me actually making it to the bog.
I think a commode is more socially acceptable than a bottle.
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 I keep my sex doll and stack of ghey porn also in the cabinet 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 doonloaded.
What will family members find if you died today ? I'd rather be remembered as the Greatest Blogger in the world who banged Sophia Loren in the ass in 1967 while George Peppard watched and 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 fucker."
Get off yer lazy arse and go use the toilet or a sink or something.Most of my posts start with a message and degenerate into some perverts idea of a happy ending.
Old Knudsen is a romantic soul, On my 5th wedding I wanted to express just how much I loved my bride to be, either Sally or Sara was her name.
She was hot and had the most extraordinary luck ever, she used to go out at night for a few hours and come home and tell me how she just found £300 on the ground.
Then when our first baby was born and he turned out to be Asian her secret was out, it seems she was a distant relate of Ghengis Khan which is why she looked white but could have a half Asian baby, I didn't mind for I knew old Ghengis, what a laugh he was at least the baby was mine .
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 Sally or and Sara, 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 Sally or Sara was murdered by the Aberbrothock Slasher who went around killing prostitutes, he must have mistaken her for one. She used to wear micro mini skirts in the dead of winter, not very practical I used to say but she like her fashions. I shielded little Charlie Chan our son from some of the accusations made. People can be cruel.
As you can see the post about Vince Vaughn is still up, I believe I can last more than 3 weeks.
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