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A piece of trash bike that looks like it was hit by a truck and then left in the rain. It squeals like a dying cat and smells like a gym sock that's been worn for a month.
My bike is so broken, I think it's trying to tell me to stop riding it.
This Paisacleta is louder than my mom when she finds out I failed math.
That bike is so bad, it should be in the trash, not in my garage.