are now eight months that we ride these colts metal.
From the mythical first outing in the Black Forest of Mozzate we have become: hundreds of miles of training have changed the physical. We are a company officially registered travel round-the Union of European cycling amateurs. We train two or three times every week. We participate in bike races in the whole of Lombardy. We are sponsored.
The rats are leaving the Lura proud and wear the team colors of the Sursum Corda.
Take for example the Colonel. 8 months ago hobbled into the "Graziella" of his wife. He was a bully impennando no hands to finish in the bushes flayed alive, broke to continue pushing the pedals with his feet like little children do not know when to go on the tricycle.
Today, here it is. A war machine. The muscles shiny, swollen and sunburned driving two steel legs like pistons and connecting rods that plunger on the pedals of his bicycle: a technological jewel of high precision mechanics of the third millennium. The Colonel is one with his half. He knows every inch of that frame. The well-informed say that he convinced his wife to bring the bike to stay with them in Latvia. The name is Carmen. Unable to completely disassemble and reassemble Carmen (not wife) in seven and a half minutes, blindfolded. The lava every day Chante Clair. The talking and caressing like a lover. Here he is, he said. The muscles shiny, swollen and sunburned. The wind that ruffles the tuft protruding from the headband. I mean look that sets out through the lenses of his wraparound sunglasses. The eye care professional's fixed on ... fixed on ... Fixed careful ... Fixed ... fixing the floss thong peeping by low-waisted shorts Giusi Bottom circuit in the famous Golden Parks. The Colonel is in seventh heaven: the bike, wind, sun, tanga . But do not misunderstand: the Colonel is a man all in one piece, man of honor, looking but not touching. Recharge the spirit with his grin staring at the undulating thong. Then with a slight movement of the finger, ladder sprocket, pitch change, click on the pedals, says: "Achtung! Step Left," and flies past imperious Giusi.
And here come the Torero. He also abandoned the full-suspension bike built in only two samples from a craftsman of Locri which was around 8 months ago. Since then he has broken the frame of a half-dozen bicycles. The bullfighter is pure power. The circumference of his thigh is equal to the waist of the Colonel. Brake even when going uphill. The tightness is always the same, even now in June: goose down black over the K-Way and para-green ears of batteries. When he gets behind the thong Giusi Golden Chiappa not bat an eyelid, those bottoms are all the same to him, says: "Be careful that if you move you lie down" and goes on.
It 's the time of the voice of an angel. As always wanted to overdo it. It 'started deliberately last on the grid. He said he blocked the change in the relationship harder to prove its strength in reality is not capable of change. Its goal is the Colonel. In the race before it has hired some judges because they indicate a voice of an angel on the wrong track causing him to fall into a ravine. This time has to pay. The tanga is a sensitive issue for him, and he looks and touches. But the Colonel can not escape. This time it just says nothing. With a nice pat on the ass moves Giusi, chasing a little scream of pleasure. He throws in pursuit of Colonel.
Let's move ahead on the lead group. Prince is still there among the first. This time he entertained the group singing "Purple Rain". The last time he had also brought the electric guitar. He also noticed the thong the start, but passed over by saying: "Father forgive them for they know not what ago. "
Let slip into the group of tail.'s President" That is my friend. "As is always preaching to the crowds that surround him and drink from his lips:" It 's time to stop! It 'time to revolt against this creeping coup! The mignottocrazia must end! Shout with me NOT IN MY NAME. And now we also put a gag, so we know nothing of the escort, the bed of Putin, dental hygienist. Will restructure the houses with our money in broad daylight. Replace the national anthem with the cat on the roof of Gino Paoli or with Anne of Green Gables and we can not say anything more. Strips will green without our knowledge. And 'the system moving forward. Democracy is at risk. We must resist, resist, resist. We must arm ourselves with statuettes of the Duomo! ". And all of" Long live the president! ". He said, 'If you vote for me, I promise, more tanga for everyone!". ... PRE-SI-DEN-TE! PRE-SI-DEN-TE! PRE-SI-DEN-TE!
...". Just as Giusi Chiappa Golden kisses and embraces the President and the crowd took him to the finish line in triumph, the tragedy is consumed.
angelic voice has reached the Colonel. The tip, study and pass it off to the first inside. The Colonel did not believe his eyes as no one has ever dared so much. Try to react, but the legs have hardened mainly by the psychological effect. Voce d'Angelo accelerates and disappears. Will reach the finish line in a wheel separation from Prince.
Colonel retires and returns home without eating.
's so we spend a few hours of entertainment. The open air, lots of laughter, a little 'exercise ... setting the thong.
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