Girls and Bikes

^as soon as I saw 'Last post by Platini', i knew you'd be correcting spelling/grammer!

grammar ;-)

i just hope there's going to be coke at the picnic.

just pray the picnic is not on hampstead heath near mens pond, otherwise you might get a lucky surprise for desert :O

rpm, uncle buck is a great movie. not everyone likes priscilla queen of the desert!

i just hope there's going to be coke at the picnic.

My kinda picnic! Waaheeyyy!

Send a text saying something like: "Hey! It's me, [insert name here]. Would you like to go to fanny farmer after the picnic?"

fixed

must be an unbelievably small town that this "likE" "kid", believes that his stories of nearly romance are of interest to us cosmopolitan bike nuts....

My guess is he'll bore her with his stories of non-existent cyber-cyling friends in exciting far off lands......nerd!

@emoxfag - tell her you're working undercover for the CIA because you were in 'Nam but you can't really talk about it. Dollies love an international man of mystery, she'll be putty in your hands my son.

Uncle Buck is a good film, no need to shove it under the carpet. Everyday I ask myself: Whatever happened to John Hughes?

He moved to Scotland & goes by the name of Graham Obree

.

-1

whether this is real or not i'm still enjoying it...i love how emofag doesn't respond to the abuse,its brilliant...
looking forward to the next installment.

^^ I agree Aidan

As there was no post from Emoxfag today I thought we could re-read another one of his little stories

http://www.londonfgss.com/thread6478.html

Here's a plan.

On thursday or friday when you see the girl again, take her to the top of a really steep hill and then let her have a go on your bike. If I remember correctly she should soon fall off & probably graze one of her norks so you can catch a sneaky peek.

you said norks........ [SNIGGER]

Emo - you could go all undercover and CHECK THE REGISTER for her name??? just thinking outside the box there.....

She can check the OTHER register for your name ;)

Good luck on the Picnic, sadly i have an alergy to threesomes and scotch eggs which would sadly rule me out of joining the fun

Bloody hell this is better than an episode of desperate housewives, twenty five and scared to talk to girls, Aw Bless your little cotton socks

talk To Her !!!

Emo fox

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82r9h7Q0BEY

awwwww, your attempts to make us think your stories are cute remind me of something...

headed out for the picnic now. I picked up some new records yesterday that i think she may enjoy , and new batteries for the ol' PT-01 portable Numark turntable. We will see how it goes.

edit: i just got back. the picnic was ruined by people passing through the park for some stupid festival nonsense and some kid asking me about my records and my bike. so we went to this party house (actually the same place we first ran into each other.)We watched a bunch of cats get drunk and play stupid party games blah blah. she sat next to me while i talked about comics and music to some dude for a minute, then again later when i was talking to this kid about bikes. Anyway, a bunch of us went out to a diner talked about snuff films, comics, racism and lesbian porn, got some eats and went back t the house to drop people off. she offered me a ride back to my place (with her friend she picked up on the way to the party) but i declined and took a ride back to the park to get my bike. I was getting out of the car and i turned to say if she wanted to hang out again we should and she kissed me goodnight. i got out and got my bike and rode home. now i have to get up in three hours to drive and hour and a half to paint bikes, screen print spoke cards, and go see Hellboy 2.

She DOES NOT know my name, and when she pulled the "how do you spell your name" trick i said just like its sounds, but with a K and a T. then i took her it put it in her phone i put it in as UP THE BIKES.

god this is a fucking soap opera isnt it? anyway. i figured out the x factor in his one. she didn't actually RIDE with me. she just supports it. so i think that may be the trick. Cute ex messanger boy with cute bike works better than legit bike enthusiast looking to ride with girls.

you may be right there emoxfag - but at some point you will want to convince her to ride with you and then the trouble starts all over again. Suddenly you're on this forum asking around for tiny frames, advice on pink components, suitable gear ratios and stressing out that she's gonna paint over the original Eddy Merckx decals....it's only just begun friend...

I descended Dartmouth Park Hill. I was close to spinning out & the black citroen behind me was way to close for comfort. As I slowed for the lights at the bottom near Gospel Oak a sustained hiss announced a flat. The bird in the citroen behind beeped her horn & without turning to look, I gave her the finger.

She leaned out and enquired do you wanna lift?

I turned round and saw: Blue eyes, brown skin, black hair, bangs.
She had an immaculate ultra-short Bettie Page/ Chan Parker fringe, thick brows, eyes wide open.

What shall I do with my bike?
Shove it in the back! Came the reply.
It was one of those long low Citroen station wagons: So I stuck it in.

It was like getting into the car driven by Gloria Grahame at the beginning of Vincente Minelli’s The Cobweb, I’m the sensitive and so serious youth, skinny, angular and edgy and she’s so puffy and pouty and animated, all sensual and wriggly and the way she held her cigarette was the way Gloria Grahame held the steering wheel of the wood panelled Chevrolet station wagon with her white gloves, do you recall?

*Do you want a ride? *Enquires Gloria. So did blue eyed bangs.
*Do you want to talk? *Blue eyes also.
I could talk your eyes out.
Go on then.
Derain died the other day.
But, what would you know of Derain?!

• the handsome young and artistic mental patient stutters, spitting with contempt,
  *Actually, I do know Derain, a French painter, one of Les Fauves *
  
• answers the beautiful psychiatrist’s spouse, except it went like this:
  
  

And the car I climbed into upon her invitation was a Citroen CZ, a great long shark of a car, long low and sleek with a streamlined dashboard that made you think you were on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. I was beginning to feel like William Shatner.

*Nice bike!*She said. She looked over her shoulder at my big ring and enquired turning to meet my eyes.
How many inches?
She knew about bikes then. She talked about liking blokes in lycra and about how she wanted to get a bike.

When we got to Camden I asked her to drop me round the back of Sainsbury’s.

It was only later when I was in the tea & coffee aisle that I realised that she had been hitting on me.

Sometimes, I’m real slow to catch on.

i go away for a week, come back and this is on my screen.... some times i miss you guys.

I descended Dartmouth Park Hill. I was close to spinning out....

awesome!

I like this thread, a "acceptable" manner of reading romance trash.

I saw a woman, so exactly like this yesterday! we eyed each other up a bit while she curled her eyelashes on the tube.

She was older, maybe as far as 39. But with a "youthful bounce" she was fit, playful (hehee) and had sharp sense of style.

Unfortunateley I was with the best part of my family AND simultaneously providing a newly arrived Indian software engineer with a detailed answer after he asked me why all the bikes in London have two locks on them. (I had a frame on me too!)

i think emoxfag is doing it wrong. why overcomplicate things?