Published on February 7th, 2020 | by Boris0
“I am on the best bike – the Blue Bushidomaha! And look how Lin shows his happiness! He cuts himself with a screwdriver!”
Dear Blue Bushidos.
It is me, your new Blue Boss of All The Yamahas and also Testiculo Spectaculo i Glorioso de Spartano.
And I am here in this terrible rainy sweatbox of freezing air-conditionings and dirty palm-trees full of spiders, called Spandex Racetrack, in what looks like China.
So first I want to say that I am already faster than everybody because I have made the proper riding for the testing – and it was not on a stupid red Bologna or a horrible Satu Hati Mati Fati Repsolo.
I am on the best bike – the Blue Bushidomaha! And look how Lin shows his happiness! He cuts himself with a screwdriver! Even my old servant Gigi has pointed his eyebrow at me as I flew past his red tear-pit, which is full of crying, fat, and hair.
I was so fast, it was hard to time me. I had to slow down so the numbers would not upset everyone.
But already they are upset. I see this everywhere. I see that French Back-Flip Puta who surrendered seven times last year begging Gigi to give him a floor to sweep.
I see the Maniac Puta, Iannone, walking in his junkie underpants after injecting his face with exhaust smoke and holding a bag of hair he wants someone to test.
I say to him: “SSSSSSS-CHAH! I cannot test everything! Find someone else who will take your hair to a laboratory.”
I see also how the Yellow Puta’s big monkey eyes follow me when I walk from pit to pit and give the good advice to all the riders who will never win a championship.
“You are too fat!” I say to the fat ones.
“You are too slow!” I say to the slow ones.
“You have too many stolen things,” I say to the Criminal Redding, who is here stealing bike parts to sell to the criminals in BSB.
“What is wrong with your faces?” I ask the Orange Bull Putas.
And then I come back to my garage and begin my year-long guidance of the team.
“Listen, Old Yellow Puta,” I say to the Old Yellow Puta. “Your seat is too black, like the heart of Carmelo. I know all about seats and hearts. He does not. So he must listen. And obey, and make it less black.”
“Listen, Tom Cruise Fighter Jet Volleyball Puta,” I then say to the woman with the moustache. “You must ride with the neck and the ankles. Like an eagle! That is the secret.”
“Listen, Other French Puta,” I also say to the one with little Tic-Tac teeth. “Close your mouth in the heat of battle. Too much air comes between your Tic-Tacs.”
“Who are you?” I then ask the other one, because I really do not know.
“Put down the screwdriver!” I finally say to Lin. “Bring me more cold water and a nice espresso!”
And then everybody is happy and they say to me it is impossible for them to race and to win without me.
This is true. They are lucky I am here.
Standby for further testing instructions.
Always watching, always judging,