The British race at Silverstone was obviously an insult to all forward-thinking viewers such as myself (and maybe that Gandi fella if he’s allowed a BT-Sports subscription)
First of all Jack Miller – who does he think he is? Standing up for Bagnaia like that at the press conference was just embarrassing. How are we supposed to get across how unfairly all minorities are treated if we can’t continually bring up the same pointless accusations to white men? Would he have been so quick to defend Bagnaia if he was none-binary or even Welsh? No. So, predictably, we were forced to bring the topic back to MotoGP and not the importance of none-MotoGP stuff that I’m trying to be offended by.
Miller acts like he’s a man’s man. Which just shows you why myself and so many other virtue signalling arseholes are so offended by the Australian and his tired antics. In the age of mix-raced TV adverts do we really need another man’s man? The earth is already shaped like a giant testicle. What more does he want? No wonder Ducati, coloured by the menstrual flow, got rid.
Personally I’m open to a Twitter debate with Miller at any time. Unless he disagrees with me then I’ll block him.
The race at Silverstone was the typical ‘all-male, all-white’ podium. But what did anyone expect? The UK in general is a sexist, racist nation. And at the top of it all, surprise-surprise, a white male! But it gets worse. Now the PM’s set to be replaced by either a woman or an Indian man! How convenient. The government once again forcing in the minorities to the top to try to look good. Well I for one won’t be voting for either of them – see how they like that!
One thing that really stood out for me at Silverstone was the so-called injury of Aleix Espargaro. He started the weekend with his hair bleached bright white. I guess riding the predominantly black Aprilia was a little too BAME for you Aleix? But it was the way he blamed his lacklustre performance on his crash injuries that offended me most.
Frankly I doubt he even knows what real pain is. Real pain is the agony of childbirth. Real pain is then the torture of finding out the child is male and not trans. Real, real pain, Aleix, is then finally being mis-pronouned as ‘mother’.
Finally I’d like to end with a bit of poetry. This will be above you all but I feel I should try to filter down my brilliance onto normal people. Think of it as my community service for the crime of just being myself.
Mother earth is getting weak
And mis-gendered by all men
She’s an ‘it’ if it wants
A molten born-again
As for us people trapped outside
Poverty is all we know
I need to rush far, far away
Business class from Heathrow
Seb P
Sebastian Piffleton is a completely fictional MotoGP journalist. When he’s not lording it up at MotoGP races he likes to spend his time virtue signalling and scanning the internet for things to pretend to be offended by. Sebastian has no motorcycle racing experience but acts like he does.