Congregating Cunt Bikers

Being a biker/cunt, I think we get a raw deal for speeding, number plate size, noise, riding like a twat and lots of other things. I’m guilty of most of them, but I have just seen a video on the news about a group of wannabe adventure riders – you know the type: BMW capable of riding to Mars and back, fat, sweaty wanker who can hardly get his leg over the fucking thing (all the gear, no fucking idea, middle-aged fuckpigs).

These fuckpigs have decided to congregate outside the West End Cafe (shouldn’t that be shut?) in Llandovery, drinking coffee, chatting and hanging around in a small group less than 2 metres apart. Anyway, a slack jawed yokel has been filmed telling them to fuck off.

So fuckpigs, the bikes are for riding, not standing next to, you lazy cunts. Don’t add yet another problem to biking, you cunts. We are already unpopular enough, especially in Llandovery – the place is only on the map for the great roads, Duffy and that’s it.

Don’t fuck it up.

Nominated by Fuglyucker

31 thoughts on “Congregating Cunt Bikers

  1. Llandovery, of all places!! I take it they’re not there for the (presumably closed) bookshops.

  2. We have them cunts round our way,tearing off over the moors.
    I’ve always wanted them to plough into a wall and turn themselves into a hash.
    The fat bastards.

    • I went to a biker with a u-bend in his leg, once! Fucking belter. Screamed like a stuck pig.

  3. There have always been biker hangouts. I used to hangout Spanish City, with dozens of others. I had a beauty of a Royal Enfield 66 Bullet ( 500).

    What was different in those days, is that gangs were usually young lads. Old farts never rode on bikes!

    Nothing better than burning some overdressed “Mod” riding a poxy underpowered fart machine with more fucking mirrors than the Hubble Telescope.

    Ah….those were the days!

  4. I also happen to be a biker cunt but I’m not a fat mid life crisis cunt, I’ve been riding bikes since the age of 12 and I am just shy of being 60.
    I own several bikes and none of them are these cunting “Adventure” bikes.
    I was talking to one of these fat mid life crisis cunts last summer, he just so happened to be riding a BMW two wheeled tractor!
    He asked me about my 1980 Honda and I swear the fat cunt stopped breathing when I told him I bought it in boxes and rebuilt the fucker.
    I asked him what he did if his bike broke down and he said he’d ring the AA, it was my turn to stop breathing. He then went on to tell me that he knew nothing about motorcycles or engines and that he was an accountant that had passed his bike test the previous year as he had always fancied having a bike. 12 £Grand and 60 miles does not make you a biker!
    Fat sweaty cunt!

    • Well done them, get mingling!
      Evel kneivel wouldnt of been scared of corvid 19.
      Hed of jumped it on his skycycle!

    • Every biker I’ve ever known was a wanky cunt. All stink, have the same misplaced ‘I’m hard as nails’ attitude when in reality they are, to a man, soft as fucking shit. I lump them in with ramblers, real ale drinkers and weekend Morris Dancers. Fucking imbecilic cunts!

      • Mate of mine, a builder, sound bloke, only little,
        Was in a biker pub,
        Some of them were battering fuck out of some bloke, my mate went over and tried to stop it, “hes had enough,hes had enough”
        Which was a decent thing to do.
        Said he felt hed done the right thing when he came round in hospital..

      • I take it you never met my Granddad then? He was riding a Matchless around Germany about 75 years ago looking for some cunt to shoot.

        • My Dad had a Matchless and a Sunbeam S7 ( I think) The days of great British bikes !

  5. Motorcycle emptiness. Sad, childish losers with small genitals. The louder the bike, the smaller the appendage. Keep plucking the bugs from your teeth.

    Hoo-ee, what a gang of cunts.

    • Correct me if I’m wrong but I thought we were cunting “Congregating Cunt Bikers”, not everyone that rides or has ever ridden a motorcycle? I can assure you that there are way, way more cunts driving cars.

  6. On Seawall Boulevard in Galveston there used to be a biker hangout where dozens of leather clad Lemmy lookalikes would hang out. It was right next to a (very) gay bar called something like ‘The Pink Flamingo’. It was very amusing seeing the hairy hardknock types hanging loose outside, having a beer and shooting the breeze with the gays from next door.
    Live and let live…

    • Reminds me of the famous blue stone of Galveston.
      It’s this famous blue stone…and it comes…from Galveston.

  7. I believe A&E staff refer to them as organ donors. So hanging about probably a good idea.

  8. In the Highlands, where I live, they have the “Thunder in the Glens” event in which a load of fat old men in beards and leather turn up for a weekend of… being fat old men in beards and leather. Still, it makes a change from the cunts in VW Campervans who pretend to climb the mountains.

  9. Be somewhat grateful for the fact there is a mandatory riding exam in the UK which, when I took it in 1999, is fucking difficult to pass. Over here, yeah there’s a safety course you’re meant to do in order to get the “MC” endorsement added to your license, but it’s not rigorous, not enforced and not policed. It’s basically a bit of chat in a classroom, then riding around some cones in a school playground. Hardly advanced bike operation or road craft. It’s a bit of a joke if I’m honest.

    Consequently, there are many cunts who ride around on Yank roads and you can just tell by watching them they’ve either had no formal training or they’re thick as pig shit or both.

    I ride a proper bike, a Honda VFR800FI. Notice to all Harley riders – you’re riding a slow and stupidly loud couch on wheels, so don’t give me the head bob or the peace sign as you go by. I won’t, never have and never will acknowledge you because you’re all cunts.

  10. My Brother used to have a Yamaha YZF426 motocrosser – ride one of those hard and experience the true meaning of fear!

    • Had a similar experience, Vern. An ex-friend of mine years ago (was a friend at the time – long story, not relevant here, why I did even bring it up?) asked me to pick up his Kawasaki ZX12R and ride it back to his house for him. I did the deed and was absolutely terrified. My bike (Honda VRF800FI) responds to engine braking. It’s what I was taught and it’s part of my safety and control regimen. Changing down to slow down on the ZX12R has the opposite effect. The revs went bonkers and the bike started chomping at the bit like it was saying, “Traffic slowing down in front, great! Let’s floor it and see how fast we can go”. Mental!

      I have neither the skills nor the bottle to ride an out and out sports bike. My sports tourer is more than enough for me.

      • Likewise IY – my older Brother was nearly killed in a serious RTA (myopic old b*tch, pulls out, usual story) and has a permanently disabled right arm and virtually useless right hand, doesn’t stop him, first bike when he was out of hospital was a Suzuki RMX250!
        My younger Brother is a f*cking maniac on a bike – got an R1, immediate speeding ban, got another when the ban was up, binned it and no insurance payout because of the race can he fitted – I would like to have been a fly on the wall as he explained that one to his Wife!
        Wouldn’t mind a VFR, but one of the older ones – pre VTEC and gear driven cams.

        • I’d love to see some of the biker hating cunts on here zip tied to the bars of one of them bikes when someone puts it in gear and releases the clutch. Imagine the exhileration they would feel!
          Namby pamby closet living cunts!

        • Gosh Vern. The R1 is a rocket ship on steroids. Hope you still have brothers.

          The VFR is a great bike. Mine’s a 2000. A year or two before Honda ruined it by going twin exhausts plus a bunch of other mods as they basically tried to make it look like a Fireblade. Which was mental because they already had a Fireblade in the range. Mine’s the limited edition yellow too. I have the same bike as this:

          I’m not crazy on it though and I’m so glad I got trained in the UK. It’s kept me safe. The Yanks don’t respect bikes. Over here they’re leisure machines you mainly see on weekends. Consequently cunt car/truck drivers are not tuned in and bike aware like they are in the UK where bikes are an everyday part of the traffic.

          Nuttiest thing I ever did was buzz a sports car in the outside lane of the A3 heading towards Guildford. This cunt was being all flash just sitting in the outside lane doing about 90. I came up behind him. Didn’t move. Weaved around to make my headlight move in his rear view mirror to get his attention. Didn’t move. Rode up way too close to his bumper to make my point. Didn’t move. So I dropped a gear, swung into the next lane and piled on as he accelerated to try to keep up and stop me from getting in front of him. I had to do 125 to put this cunt in his place. I was shitting myself. Any small mistake, debris in the road, anything of that nature and you’re dead. You simply won’t walk away from a crash at that speed.

          Stupid and scary and I wouldn’t do it again, but hey not bad for a bike that’s not technically a sports bike – even though it looks like one.

  11. I remember those beige Honda C90’s, the choice of transport for the pac-a-mac winky wanky woo brigade. Fucking perverts, but at least you could spot them (usually parked outside a public bog).

    • I used to love my Honda 90 (a blue one I hasten to add!) – needed it after an RTA damaged my left hand/arm, but back on a real machine when the injuries healed – yeay!
      Fitted an end can from a Kawasaki KDX 175 on it, bent the footpegs right up (needed) and wrote “born to be mild” on the number plate.
      Crashed it racing an X7 and an RD350!

      • Plenty of pansies rode X7’s, but RD350’s….well just looking at one increased your sperm count!

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