I walk to and from work. There is a cunt that cycles on the pavement when there's a perfectly good road not a metre a way. He is fat, and ugly, and wears cycle shorts. He rides a bike that screams 'I am cunt'. On Friday, he clipped me with his handlebars. It's a narrow pavement. He had the nerve to tell me to 'watch it'. Precisely what I'm meant to watch I don't know. He came hurtling along from behind me (as it were), he's a fat man, there's only just enough room for me to walk without playing the old 'car or human - who's least bouncy?'. I didn't see him today, but I made sure to walk in the middle of the pavement as if to say 'you are going into my back or into the road, you absolute cunting wank'. Perhaps tomorrow I shall stick a stick in his spokes and then throw his weeping carcass to the car-lions. Utter, utter cunt.
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Message boards are the last vestige of the spent masturbator, still intent on wasting time in some neg-heroic fashion. Be damned all who sail here.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Savage Clone
Last time I was in Chicago I spent an hour in a Nazi submarine with a banjo player.
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