The morning cycling group heading North on the M7 Cycleway on Tuesday mornings is the thing that's helping the fat pig focus his pointless rage. Fwvark, they probably have a really cool name, are thinking about getting jerseys made up... but collectively act like a drunk poop trying its best to swim against the toilet swirl dragging it down! Just go away!!!!
The cranky meat sack had to dodge one of the useless turds doing a U-turn on the cycle pathway without looking, as a few of his/her (not frunking sure, dont care) friends swanned around in all directions all over the pathway. The meat sack was channeling the pig with some choice screaming, but le peleton de ru phuksticks probably all had ipods jammed into their ears playing forking Eurovision shite (all Eurovision sucks except that Icelandic group Hatari.... they rocked!) into their vacuous heads. The laws of physics would have been in the pigs favour if the lycra clad bianchi riding knob chaffing prik had of blocked the pigs path only moments earlier.....
It's not the first time the pig has had to swerve to avoid that group either..... so, the pig hates you, the meat sock hates you, the pigs sweaty bike shorts hate you all...
ahhhhhhhhhhh