Wild thing. I think I love you.
Heading down Esmond Road this morning in a car I stole from Papa Smurf, young woman on one of those new Kawasaki learner bikes comes roaring past, L Plate affixed (**YHZ), short shorts showing a decent set of legs.
She bullies down the centre, then races a bike at the front of the queue, cutting perfect lines through cages all the way to the motorway onramp at warp 9.3.
Wild thing. I think I love you.
(Yes, I'm a dirty old man).
It’s diametrically opposed to the sanitised existence of the Lemmings around me in the Dilbert Cartoon hell I live in; it’s life at full volume, perfect colour with high resolution and 10,000 watts of amplification.
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