Confession Booth

[GrumpyGregry]

My son, you have clearly been neglecting your physical training regime, which has rendered you incapable of running faster. May I respectfully suggest you increase your aerobic and anaerobic activity to gain fitness.

A man is but here for only a brief, fleeting moment. Woefull is he who wastes, nay, squanders his time in pursuit of the flesh of fair maidens. Even more woefull is such a man, chasing said flesh without a cat in hells chance of catching it - let alone being in a fit state to do something with it if he did catch up.

Next

Reverend, for the record, I finished at least two minutes ahead of the object of my admiration.

 

[ComedyPilot]

Bless me Cp for I have sinned .. I had a very smug look upon my face while riding my new bike out today and I still have it

Avarice - It is not good form to gloat over people with lesser steeds than yourself.

As my dad used to say, "A second class ride is better than a first class walk".

 

[ComedyPilot]

bless me too as i have not sinned but i am waiting to be sinned on

ps somebody outbid me on a very nice frameset

So, you have come to my CONFESSIONAL, a place where people CONFESS, and you tell me you have nowt to confess?

Begone - you're fired.......(wrong script)

Go and do something and come back later.

 

[Spinney]

Like many other ladies, his undoubted physical presence has caught your eye as he grinds and hammers away at the pedals, displaying a musclature, speed and stamina and other attributes hitherto normally associated with pedigree race horses. As his body heaves under the excertion, and his brow sheds fresh droplets of perspiration, one could become spellbound in his athletic majesty. Perfectly formed calf muscles and chiseled thighs are topped adequately by pert sinewy buttocks that act as an insatiable ram to the bikes yielding frame. Relentlessly hammering away, not stopping, heart pounding, arms wrenching mercilessly at the bars - eking out every last drop of energy to reach a crashing climax.

Then he falls, spent, to the floor, every last nerve tingling with pain and adrenalin. Slowly he recovers his composure, hauls his tired body to his feet, and smiles (through Hollywood teeth) before hopping into the tour bus to have a massage with a Latvian masseuse called Igor.

Reverend, may I respectfully suggest that you take a cold shower...

 

[ComedyPilot]

I've been spending too much time on cycle forums

Oh, contraire, mon cherie, vous avez nest-pas.

You might be getting a bit web-weary when you open a fake confession booth, and try to offer (sometimes intimate) advice to complete strangers.

non?

Next

 

[ComedyPilot]

Oh learned one I may of sinned. Whilst waiting for my cycling buddies this morning outside Barnet Church, I had occasion to watch a lovely filly astride a Pinnerello pass by wearing lycra clothing, and she had a ponytail as well. I smiled and said hello, she smiled back, I had unworthy thoughts. Should I be punished?

No.

Unlike the yoghurt-wearing, sandal-knitting lefties on here, I aren't repressed and cowed into believing women don't have desires and urges like men.

Trust me they do. And the athletic ones are even more so.

Sadly, like GregCollins, I fear you are like a Saint Bernhard in a greyhound race. You are in the traps all eager, you hear the bell ring, and you get a stirring in your loins. Your hearbeat increases as you hear the lively little filly approach. Nose pressed against the starting gate, you brace your legs against the back door, ready to give yourself extra purchase for the 'off'

The gun goes bang.........

The door opens............

The filly scampers away down the track, kicking up sand behind her with every stride..........

We look back at the trap and see our hero, still imprisioned in his metal tutu. Legs spinning like Wile E Coyote, toungue salivating like a leaking gutter, but forward momentum lacking.

Collectively, we will you on and, with a pop, out you fall, indignantly on to the track. Popcorn buckets are crushed in anticipation as we urge you to your feet, encouraging shouts of, "Go Rocky, go Rocky" are kindly ignored.

Eventually you surprise all of us and get to your feet and set off in hot pursuit of the now-distant filly.

Vangelis 'Chariots of Fire' is playing in our ears as you lollop along in slow motion, like an elephant seal on a beach.

Stil urged on by the hunger in your eyes, you gain momentum, but the filly is long gone - like a cream cake at a weight watchers meeting, she has been snatched from your very grasp.

And the moral of this sad tale: Look, but don't touch - Chase, but don't catch.

Next

 

[ComedyPilot]

Reverend, for the record, I finished at least two minutes ahead of the object of my admiration.

Oh dear my son, you have forgotten the cardinal rule of the chase - you aren't meant to catch them. And if you do, then you're not meant to beat them, then laugh at their lack of fitness whilst kicking sand in their face.


You're not a competative dad, are you?

 

[ComedyPilot]

Reverend, may I respectfully suggest that you take a cold shower...

May I respectfully suggest you join me.........?

 

[Fnaar]

Sorry about the mess, I thought this was a public toilet.

 

[GrumpyGregry]

Oh dear my son, you have forgotten the cardinal rule of the chase - you aren't meant to catch them. And if you do, then you're not meant to beat them, then laugh at their lack of fitness whilst kicking sand in their face.


You're not a competative dad, are you?

I'm competitive, I'm a dad (to grown up children). But I'm not, and never was, a competitive dad.

I run with people, much younger, much slimmer, and much better looking than myself. Beating them on occasion is essential to uphold the good name of my generation.

Anyway, what is my penance?

 

[tyred]

I shot JR.

 

[ComedyPilot]

I sentence you to 3 weeks solitary confinement, with your eyes held open and a tv playing Strictly Come Dancing on repeat

 

[Gareth]

I rode my Hybrid down Elm Hill in Norwich this morning which is a cobbled street and I enjoyed this new experience!

 

[Globalti]

VERY good use of an emoticon there, go to the top of the class!

 

[tyred]

I've got Lord Lucan chained up in my cellar.