Blogs

Dear George

“Is it because Joanne has made the fast lap with the name of a woman but with a man’s macron tucked up backwards behind her thighs?”

Published on May 20th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear Gigi, What is wrong with these stupid Frenchians? Why are they all running around with their culottes around their ankles and their macrons in their hands? You would think they have something to celebrate. But... Read More →

Dear George

“We can’t go outside because Rossi’s fans will kill us all like rats, put your head on a pole and run through the streets of Scarperia e San Piero screaming his name.”

Published on May 10th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear George, I cannot squat here anymore. My pelvis has turned into bone-paste and all the veins in my legs have collapsed like the Venezuelan economy. The crew and I have been kneeling here so long... Read More →

Dear George

“Eat my fat balls, Gigi! You are not the boss of the Mamba! Only the Mamba understands what is the perfect tyre for every condition!”

Published on May 7th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear George, I am drinking a glass that has been filled with the stale piss of Andalusian rats, the pus squeezed from a cankerous sore, and despair. Mainly despair. So much despair… It is you who... Read More →

Dear George

“Me and Asparagus were having a serious crack. Munted prick goes alright. No idea how he sees out of them slitty eyes he has.”

Published on May 2nd, 2018 | by Boris

Dear George, Mate, you need to calm the fuck down and stop being a dead-set five-arseholed prick. Them sad Spango cunts you pay money to hang around your bean-bag-filled bus keep texting me. “Apologise to George,... Read More →

Dear George

“No-one has an excuse to not know this! Gigi, when I shake my head all the mierda stops and everyone pulls over!”

Published on April 24th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear Gigi, OK, now I am ready to race after that stupid and dangerous practice on Sunday. How many of those putas cheated! The filthy animals. They have no honour! Their mothers make the gargling mouth-sex... Read More →

Dear George

“I have told many secrets in this book. The first is that Carlito makes the smells from his breath when he sleeps. It is very unpleasant.”

Published on April 18th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear Gigi, How is the building of the Super Mamba la Magnífica Sala de Victoria de Firma de Libros pavillion going? You don’t expect me to sign copies of my new book out the back in... Read More →

Dear George

“I shit on your Tintenfisch, George. We had entire aquariums full of fucken Tintenfish delivered to Wolfsburg and every order docket was signed ‘Der Spartaner’.”

Published on April 16th, 2018 | by Boris

Liebe George, So this is Auf Wiedersehen. But since it is unlikely I shall ever sehen you again, it’s better I give you that old Prussian farewell, ‘Scheiße essen und sterben’. I don’t want you to... Read More →

Dear George

“Japan is not a “bunch of sake-soaked mounds of dirt off the coast of China, populated by dirty shoguns, schoolgirls who sell their underpants on trains, and fat yellow Pikachus”.

Published on April 12th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear Gigi-san, Please accept our humble greetings and know we bow to you in the spirit of Bushido like the samurai of old. We are honoured that George-san has contacted us at Suzuki. But we are... Read More →

Dear George

“His crazy finger-crossing father will be neutered, beaten and left to wander the streets of Madrid yelling at garbage bins and tourists.”

Published on April 9th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear George, Get off the roof of the pit garage. You’re making the local bats nervous and they won’t mate. Don’t make me get a tranquilizer gun and shoot you full of bull-sedatives. I want to... Read More →

Dear George

“We pay Jack in beer, George. He is Australian, so he doesn’t understand money. We offered him Euros but he said he doesn’t need ‘that fucken poofter money to race bikes’.”

Published on April 8th, 2018 | by Boris

Dear George, My sister Antonia is married to a Serb. His name is Dragan. The family is terrified of him because when he drinks rakija he likes to sing 500-year-old death ballads about killing Italians in... Read More →

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