Thursday, September 30, 2004

Why I Don't Hate Boy Racers

There is a biker who pleases his primitive urges by pulling wheelies and trying to do the tun down my residential road in the dead hours of the very early morning.

In his leathers.

I don't hate him!

You see, those stylish tight leather over-trousers, worn over already too-small denim jeans, are slowly but surely depriving him of his studship!

Give it twenty years.

Those hot, tight pantaloons have restricted the bloodflow to his manhood! Too bad Boy Racer, no more masturbating over Page 3!

They have also held his testicles so close to his body, and kept them so warm, that all his gametes have come-a-cropper. Here's one biker who won't be leaking oil into the gene pool. What a loss.

Wishing you a good night's motorbike-free sleep,

Sable

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