Why we ride in Winter.
When the sharp alarms shocks you right out of the warm grasps of the insanely hot and naked women lying next to you, when the feeling of a man hood calls you, in the dark of the morning, when if you move an inch the cold of the sheet that‘s not covered by your body makes you shrink, makes your wee wee shrink, you know you have to get up, dress quickly so you don’t catch the cold or the cold, and hopefully you can still find your wee wee to pee pee.
And whilst laying your feet on a pile of playboy mags that’s already been decorated with your unborn children, you sneeze and snort, using the very same toilet paper that you wipe your ass every day to wipe your nose. And in Panda’s case, he wished he had eaten the veges and fruits so he doesn't have to squeeze the shit out of his dinkleberries as the shivers controls his body. Then you hope your shivering and uncontrollable fingers can actually wipe your ass clean so when you put that bib on, there's no cling on.
And while the kettle boils, whilst you realized your milk has gone Goat cheese, your tube needs replacing, you only found one of your winter gloves and those insanely hot naked women are now playing with each other since you not there to pleasure them. And even if you want to get back, it will take another hour to strip you naked since now you look like a Michelin Lani, with neon yellow.
And as you pushed your bike out of the door, the freeze hit you right in the face, you hit the door since it’s dark and you can’t walk straight, you ask yourself, why? Why am I doing this?
Then you remembered, you are a prostitute, you don’t be paid if you don’t ride, you don’t cross the lines ahead of the Mcleans, Langers, Browns, Balls with both of your hands risen to the heavens, crowds going nuts and marvels at your strength and power, and you turn around point the fingers to them all and then beat your chest to show them who’s da man.
Den BObbie wakes up and the coffee was cold. No matter, he swallows another donut...
And whilst laying your feet on a pile of playboy mags that’s already been decorated with your unborn children, you sneeze and snort, using the very same toilet paper that you wipe your ass every day to wipe your nose. And in Panda’s case, he wished he had eaten the veges and fruits so he doesn't have to squeeze the shit out of his dinkleberries as the shivers controls his body. Then you hope your shivering and uncontrollable fingers can actually wipe your ass clean so when you put that bib on, there's no cling on.
And while the kettle boils, whilst you realized your milk has gone Goat cheese, your tube needs replacing, you only found one of your winter gloves and those insanely hot naked women are now playing with each other since you not there to pleasure them. And even if you want to get back, it will take another hour to strip you naked since now you look like a Michelin Lani, with neon yellow.
And as you pushed your bike out of the door, the freeze hit you right in the face, you hit the door since it’s dark and you can’t walk straight, you ask yourself, why? Why am I doing this?
Then you remembered, you are a prostitute, you don’t be paid if you don’t ride, you don’t cross the lines ahead of the Mcleans, Langers, Browns, Balls with both of your hands risen to the heavens, crowds going nuts and marvels at your strength and power, and you turn around point the fingers to them all and then beat your chest to show them who’s da man.
Den BObbie wakes up and the coffee was cold. No matter, he swallows another donut...
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