#fuckyoumotherfucker

[widefiveaaron]

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#happyhumpday Smoke 'em if you got 'em! #iwon #fuckyoumotherfucker #nevergiveup #widefive #widefivellc #widefivedotnet #heatwrench #pbblaster #dowerk #yourvanagonstillsucks (at Wide Five, LLC) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwFMoi5BTfp/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=13ahnnvvbn6f6

[ivokolev9]

FYMF #thatsmyboy #fuckyoumotherfucker #fucktheвсичко #fuckthisshit #burnmatherfucka #yeahhhbitch #wazaaaaaa

[gaudeixcc]

Peleton news – Butter knife.

This week, RTA and Moley went off to enjoy the cycling somewhere. We were all invited (eventually) and what an evening it was. JT, like a foreign benefactor blessing his adoring public with little leather pouches containing silver coins, sent £7 to our hapless duo for them to buy some fizzy lager. It’s not all champagne and strawberries in his Munich Penthouse you know. The fact that he can risk his children’s breakfast by dipping into the pension pot to pull out 7 whole pounds just to buy Bert and Ernie a beer speaks volumes.

JT has changed. I remember years back on a drunken night out, James threw 10p at my head after I had suggested his Golf (2.3V5) was not quite in the same league as my BMW 635 Csi (shark-nose). The shot caused a small dimple on my temple. Later that night in my taxi ride home, I spotted him shining a torch in the gutter in a lame attempt to locate the said coin.

He never did find it…. But the story doth not endeth there… many many years later, last year in fact, when JT paid for coffee one morning on our Malaga trip and shared the bill with the Peleton, the eagle eyed amongst you will have noticed that everyone got charged £3.20….. everyone except me… my bill was £3.30….. I looked at my screen… I looked up at JT… I looked at my screen again…… I didn’t move my head this time, instead slowly raised my eyes to his. There was much hub-ub at the time with the rest of the group teasing RTA about careless bicycle leaning (bike on wall.. bike off wall… bike on floor…. Damo summoned to fix)…..but JT met my eyes with his icy stare. We said nothing….. JT tapped his temple….. and we both knew…. That 10p was lost no more. The Trusler balance sheet was restored.

Half an hour later I glanced over JT’s shoulder as he was texting the lovely Mrs JT…. All I could read of JT’s message was;

‘Close the 2004 accounts. Balance now received. Nobody makes a monkey outta……’ and that was all I glimpsed….(although I later saw Karen’s reply ping through…’Well done love, nobody out-cunts the cuntmaster general…ps. Bring home some schnitzel x’…)

So in summary my advice to RTA and Moley is…. Send the money back…. You might as well…. And probably before the 2018 accounting period is over.

Sunday came this week and for a change some of the Peleton managed to ride together.

There has been much press speculation of late concerning G19. The big fight in town being DripHop….. a little less Wiggins v Froome.. a little more Fury v Wilder.

This was the first press conference Drip and I have done since James ‘Frank Warren’ Trusler had the contracts drawn up. It could have been a frosty affair, but luckily, we had Macca ringside to keep things on the straight and narrow.

Macca, not one for riding off ahead and leaving every other fucker in his wake, rode off ahead and left every other fucker in his wake.

Drip and I made a sufficient meal of riding in mud and also managed to embarrass ourselves with many a stranger before the day had concluded.

It didn’t start well.

We rocked up in Cricketers close in my second-hand bargain Range Rover (blacked out windows, natch).

I wound down the passenger window when we saw a cyclist and immediately struck up a conversation with the fellow rider as he was Macca’s mate and was due to join us on our ride. Being Macca’s mate, he was dressed in hugely expensive gear, had an expensive (but sensible) car and spoke with an accent that has probably had money thrown at it at some point. (He really was grammatically flawless). Drip and I were dressed in trackies and trainers and looked like a couple of pikies who had lucked-out and found a brace of bikes outside the local newsagents.

Anyhoo…. After much jolly banter, our riding partner disappears and Macca arrives on the scene.

‘Who was that?’ asks Cricketers favourite pilot (there are 14 of them on the close).

Turns out the fella had fuck all to do with Macca and us….. ffs…. Sometimes I do feel a complete pillock.

Anyway, it comes time to trundle off and Dawn waves from the upstairs window… well, it was either a wave or a furious ‘get the hell out of the street with all ya noise and bafoonary, people are trying to sleep’…. I think it was just a wave.

The ride itself was tough. It’s been a while since either of the two Crawley boys have troubled mud on a bicycle and the long, slow climbs took their toll.

Overall though I was quite pleased with the days riding. Macca was like a wheeled London city guide…every hill, climb or manoeuvre was teed-up with an introduction.

‘Slow climb coming up… steepens after the turn….. then steady to the top’

‘Tough climb… looks easy… is surprisingly hard and into the wind’

My favourite of the lot was when we were about to conduct a tricky gnarly and rooty left/right bend.

‘I’ve only every completed this a couple of times without having to walk the bike round’ says Macca… clearly expecting Drip and I to be walking bikes around.

I follow Macca. Macca clears the tricky section without stopping. It’s the first time he’s done it in years. Now it would take a complete twat to show-boat and go around like a hot knife through butter making easy what had been positioned as hard. It would have been like a giant ‘fuckyoumotherfucker’ whilst giving the finger behind poor Macca��s back.

Clearly Drip and I are two proper gentlemen who don’t just rock up at this sort of event looking like Vince and Jules at the end of Pulp Fiction only to embarrass our host by deploying rarely seen cycling talent to cast shadow over his own.

Who do you think we are…? We’re not monsters you know.

Anyway, I went round that corner like a knife though hot fucking butter….. but boy did I pay the price later….

The promised post-ride breakfast was a dish of revenge…. Served piping hot.

Drip, who had the courtesy to put his foot down and pretend that it was too hard, got Avacado with his bacon, two cups of coffee… TWO!!!... double toast…. DOUBLE TOAST…all served up within minutes of his arse touching a McEvoy perching stool.

I had to wait….. a loooong time……. And then……. I got a piece of toast (un-buttered).

‘Er…. ‘ I said.

‘What?’ squawked Macca

‘Butter?’ says I.

Macca pushes it my way…. And adds a ‘would you like a fucking hot knife with that?’

Now I may be seeing shadows, but I think Macca might have had the hump. It was either my wizadary on two-wheels that hacked him off…. or it might have been the fact that on entering the McEvoy kitchen I immediately commented on the picture of Mark and the budgie (now ex-budgie) on the fridge.

On mention of the cheeky chappy Dawn cried for a solid 20 minutes…. How was I to know?

All-in-all though, a successful ride out. Fury vs Wilder looks set to be a thriller. Training has started in both camps and ahead of us lies many a press conference.

So finally, I’d like to end on an unusually positive note. Our 2018 pink cap, RTA, has been shamed by Damo into action and will shortly be sending out invites (printed on heavy-weight fine china-white stationary) to his inaugural 2018 pink cap social.

It will be lovely to see you all. We can expect a contribution from our Munich benefactor no-doubt, in line with the precedence he set last weekend.

So for those in any doubt, I’ll wrap up with this little thought. Never in the history of Gaudeix tours, has training started so early for so many. G19…. As Moley would no doubt say…. This shit just got real. Get on your turbo’s boys…. The Pyrenees are a comin’ and the butter  knifes are being warmed.

[jamyila]

The real shit of my life, my work place! Everyday I reach this claustrophobic office and start battling with useless people that make me crazy...I hate them, but I must stay until I find something better...this place is poisoning...this is a real shit, I hate them all with all my heart!

[zyago]

#FuckYouMotherfucker

[exhibitagallery]

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FUCK YOU MOTHER FUCKER - PHONE CASES Glossy black phone case with the imfamous catch phrase in white. BOLD, BIG and in your FACE! iPhone 5 / 6 / 6+, Note 3 / 4, Galaxy S4 / S5 http://www.exhibitagallery.biz/fuck-you-case #FUCKYOUMOTHERFUCKER #RICHARDVILLA #EXHIBITAGALLERY #PHONECASE #IPHONE #GALAXY #NOTE (at EXHIBIT A GALLERY)

[iskypitts-blog]

#Alcatraz #Isky #heartless #live #Milan #Guitar #Shecter #Rock #rockblessyou #fuckyoumotherfucker

[nocebosyk]

#fuckyoumotherfucker

[broderick-gray]

This #peacock wasn't having any of my #shit this photo is titled #fuckyoumotherfucker #ilovemscamden#orlandohashoodlums #fuckingmajestic #crouchingtigerhippenhipster #nature #mygirlfriendisabird

[abeyance-photography]

i will forever love this photo

[mentalxdizorder]

[unicornelovebvb]

#fucklove #obliertout #maipaspourlontemp #sad #fuckyoumotherfucker

[jokedr]

#fucku #fuckyou #fuckyoumotherfucker #fymf #lanetolsunsana #sendeannenelanetetmisin en sevdiğim karikatür =)

[exhibitagallery]

"DEATH IS FREE, ART IS NOT" #THECONGREGATION #HEAVYMETAL #HEAVYFUCKINGMETAL #ROCKNROLL #ART #ASSEMBLEANDREVOLT #MISFITS #INTHESHADDOWS #LEGION #FORWEAREONE #WAROFART #ARTISTS #MUSIC #FUCKYOUMOTHERFUCKER #EXHIBITAGALLERY #DEATHISFREEARTISNOT (at EXHIBIT A GALLERY)

[greyskiesahead-blog]

Shout out to this wall of Danzig records no ones buying. #saysorrytome #fuckyoumotherfucker #northsidekingsremainundefeated

[dominosohma]

So, I'm Pretty Pissed Off At Whoever The Fuck It Was That Fucked With The Coding Of My Blog. I Mean Seriously? Wtf.. Well, Anyone Wanna Help A Girl Out & Send Me Some Links To Find A New Theme?