Fuck You Bike Stealers!

I thought my back yard was quite secure. I locked my 15 year old half rusted mountain bike there. Among 20 or 25 other ones more or less rotten. This morning I came down and wanted to cycle to work – and it was gone. At first sight I thought: oh, was I too drunk last night? But I wasn’t even out … Starting Alzheimer? No. It was just simply stolen.

Fuck you, thief! That was really mean. This bike is of no worth, maybe you’ll get 40 bucks for the frame and 1 for the plastic duck honk, you asshole. I curse your Karma. Get scrabies! (Krieg die Krätze!)

Here’s a still from one of my films (The Self-Healing Of My Bike) *sigh* from those days when we were still together …