Dear George

Published on February 1st, 2020 | by Boris


“I go to the front door and what do I see? Yes, of course the eagle that soars above my house like a mountain shark, but also four rice-smelling Bushidos from Yamaha.”

Hola, putas!

I know you have missed me but I have been busy. That Instagram mierde will not post itself, you know. Gigi used to do it for me when I was developing the mierda Ducati for that Crying Catastrophe and Fatrucci the Puta of Fat, only to see them ruin everything, as usual.


When I was developing the Satu Hati Mati Fati Respolo for the HRC Bushidos, they gave me a servant to take my Instagram pictures. He was not very good and I think he died when I made him climb that mountain where the eagles live.


So then I said to everybody “Adios, putas!” It was enough. I develop all these bikes, I show all the children the best racing lines, I show leadership to everyone, and what do I get?


Nothing. My spine is thicker and stronger than a normal person’s so it takes longer to grow back. And now it is fully grown and strong, like the trunk of a tree that grows on the mountain where the eagles fly.


And then one day, when I was watching my servants clean my pool and massage my collection of racing leathers, there was a scratching sound on my door.

My servant, Diego, came to me and bowed and said: “Perdóneme, Jefe Lorenzo, but some small people have come to see you.”

I go to the front door and what do I see? Yes, of course the eagle that soars above my house like a mountain shark, but also four rice-smelling Bushidos from Yamaha. They have these tattoos on their hands which say: JARVIS IS GOD.


They say to me with their faces in the dirt: “Konichiwa Great Mamba Shogun Of The Racers. We have come to beg you, like the unworthy filth that we are, to please come and make the great development testicles for Yamaha.”


I immediately pour the boiling water on them to see if they were serious. They made the screaming and then they said to me: “Domo arigato, Glorious Emperor Of The Corners, we receive your boiling blessing with humility. Please say yes to make the testicle development for the Yamaha.”


“OK,” I say. “I will make this testicle development because I love the motorcycle. And because I will now be Boss of everything Yamaha does. This will make me Boss of the Yellow Puta, and the Tom Cruise Puta, and the new French Puta who has Tic Tacs for teeth, and the Yellow Puta’s fourth cousin who is his team-mate. And also the Boss of Lin Jarvis.”


The boiled little Bushidos banged their boiled little heads against the ground over and over because it is hard to bow when you are lying on your face.

“Domo arigato!” they all yelled in time, which I think is my new Bushido name, and then they gave me a lot of money and a golden bucket with an sex-octopus in it.

I make the phone call to Lin that evening.

“I have come back to make everything better for everyone,” I say to him.

It was too much for him. He start to scream and to cry and he threatened to shoot himself in the face.

“I forbid you to do that,” I said to him sternly. “I am the new Boss of all the Yamahas, and I will decide when is the time to shoot yourself. And that time is not yet, Lin.”

He was so overjoyed he dropped the phone. I cannot blame him. It is a big favour I am doing for him.

And now I must call the Yellow Puta and tell him a few things.

It is good to be back and it is good to be king, putas.



About the Author

is a writer who has contributed to many magazines and websites over the years, edited a couple of those things as well, and written a few books. But his most important contribution is pissing people off. He feels this is his calling in life and something he takes seriously. He also enjoys whiskey, whisky and the way girls dance on tables. And riding motorcycles. He's pretty keen on that, too.

Back to Top ↑
  • Zero May 2024
  • Dear George M-Rec
    BIKE ME! Forum
    BIKE ME! Beer Fund
    BIKE ME! Tumblr