KIRAC@realKIRAC
A picturesque moment with my bike mechanic, repairing my big cargo bike in which I move my kids around the streets of Amsterdam:
“No one gets wet over one of those designer e-bikes. Not even the women they want to fuck, and with them, you know what I mean, the lawyers and other useless people and their lawyer bitches.
And besides, the designer bikes break down all the time, and then they show up here complaining and I have to fix them.
I’d much rather sell them an ugly cheap Gazelle. Those Gazelles don’t break down. And it’s the ugly bikes that make women want to fuck you, I can tell you.
I fuck those lawyer bitches here in the shop. They like my bike mechanic hands around their waist.
I never liked school. I always looked down on people who study. I still do. I still have a very big cock that needs to be satisfied.
I captivate those little ladies with my crude language and set up an appointment with her after hours in the shop. They really love that. And I they gossip about it with their female friends, because recently one of those friends came in as well. But I didn’t want her. I choose my own women.
There are no tradesmen left, because in the Netherlands we insist on sending everyone to university, only for them to end up riding around on those designer e-bikes. I hope they will lose their jobs because of AI.”
These are the ruminations the bike mechanic shares with me. Because we recognize our own kind immediately. He knows I understand his story and will affirm it. Like a homosexual opening his ass to another homosexual.
