A famous composer was also a cyclist. But he refused to ride his new bach, because of the handel bars. So he took it back to the chopin began to rattle off a lizst of complaints. “Grrr… Schwinns,” he cried. But the store owner didn’t understand his unwillingness to ride. ‘Hey, it’s beets hooven‘ he said, ‘especially if you’re bizet! I was hoofin’ the other day, and got gum on my schubert!’ Riding is certainly better than taking de bussy; except if your bike is too heavy. This fellow’s ride weighed 20 kilobrahms! He took a ride by a painter’s castle once and admired the moat’s art. But some half-German, half-Russian idiot almost ran him over – what a scheisskopfsky! The composer fell headlong into a dog turd: a wipeout of operatic proportions – it was poo-chinny! He almost baroque his face, and was so shamed he went into haydn. Lessons learned? Cycling is a taste one must a choir. But if you decide to give up halfway through a ride, de bussy now comes with a bike-rachmaninoff!

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