2002-07-02 - Somebody Stole My Crappy Bicycle

Bikes and Butt Holes

I would just like to give a big "FUCK YOU" to the person who stole my bike from work today.

See, I park at my Grandmothers house(for free) and bike the 7 minute bike ride to work.

I came outside this afternoon, looked at where I had parked it, and was confused. You know how you are when you cant find your car in the parking lot? Looking all around, trying not to look obviously lost to others? Nope. Didn't find it. Gone.

I'm not worried about the bike. In fact, I couldn't really care less. It's my crappy second bike that stays out in the rain and rusts. What I DO care about is the fact that today it is the hottest day of the year. No, century. No....millenium. 45 degrees Celsius. 113 Farenheit. Humid. Muggy. Hazy. And I had to walk the frrreaking 30 minute walk to my Grannie's to get my car.

So to you, Mr. Punk-Ass Thief....the reason I don't care about the bike is that years ago I was hit by a car while riding it...the front tire is bent, the handlebars are crooked, and the frame is cracked where the seat attaches to it. I'm sorry, I should have left you the instructions...when you go over a bump or a curb, you should stand up off the seat. I really hope you DO in fact go over a curb, the seat breaks off as it should real soon, and you get a seat post right up your bung hole.

How does THAT grab you?

*fucker*