The French have no idea of how to design

The French have no idea of how to design anything practical. The hydraulic suspension on my Citroën was leaking again but I loved the car. I called it the Hatchback of Notre Dame

and installed personalised number plates saying N0TR3D4M. I wrote to West Coast Customs asking if they would pimp my ride. The upholstery expert called Ish wrote back saying

"Sweet Jesus Derek, you have to have an actual ride if you want us to pimp it. What you have is a tricycle covered in what I'm hoping isn't shit. Stop contacting us." Damn.

You know, Derek's got feelings too! He'd worked hard on that tricycle. It wasn't covered in 's**t'. Derek had lovingly coated in it 't**t' with extra 'y***u'. Why, I could wring

your neck, but if I did I'd probably get t***s all over my hands because you've clearly got s**t for brains. Derek's tricycle is a f*****g m*****e and if you can't see that then

maybe you can feast your eyes on THIS! He rolled up on a tricycle that had flames down the side, chrome skeleton exhaust and a chubby toddler on the back. Dereks trike sucked B***s

But he outgrew this and, four years later, took up meteorology and taught himself, so he could do pocasts and have followers. He would grow up to be a meteorologist , world famous.

Black holes were special to him, He wanted to go deep into one of them, but was not sure if

he could handle the dimensional challenges. Black holes were thought to really mess with one's 3D nature, but still he felt drawn to them. He found himself pulled toward the gaping

Trivaginas. He would now fulfill his Special Purpose. This is what he was made for. The name Three Dong would live forever in the planet's people's hearts. How you see me now Suzy?