Here's a riddle for you: How does a busy penetration-enthusiast-about-town get their daily chores done while out and about in a bustling metropolis, while at the same time stuffing their holes like an insatiable hump-turkey? Were you going to say, "By jamming a whisk in their pants"? Ha ha ha! You should write comedy!
The answer to the age-old dilemma about porking yourself while at the same time spending a massive sum of money on a method of decorative locomotion has finally been answered by the Joy Ride Fucking Machine. It's a device straight out of a Pepe LePew cartoon, meant to transport early '20s French socialites away from horny skunks as they engage in interspecies romance with a lead-paint-infused cat.
Or possibly inspired by Mr. Garrison's It Bike.
There are two separate yet equally important aspects of the Joy Ride which you need to know to fully appreciate how ludicrous it is, and neither of them are dildos. I never thought I'd say that. But enough wistful lamentation. Take a good look at the design of the Joy Ride, and you'll notice something right off the bat: This scooter does not move. It's stationary. It's a stationary pork scooter. Generally speaking, the definitive characteristic of a scooter, that thing which cuts to the essence of a scooter, is its ability to scoot. This doesn't. It just fucks you. It's not a scooter. It's a fucker.