Peter's fault - chatgpt view
since a while my crazy postings cause this phrase - people tell it to their wife's to excuse on no needed purchases - after some time it went international - hence "Peter ist schuld" became "Peter's fault"
why a dedicated post - many thanks @RCHeliguy - you had the discussion with chatgpt and asked about Peter's Fault - do not ask me why - its just funny and i need to share
- and i love it
In a realm where wheels turn and engines roar,
Where virtual tracks span miles galore,
Every racing enthusiast dreams to soar,
But now, we’ve a new folklore to explore.
“Oh, why this need,” many would ask,
“To sit in a rig, perform the task?
To speed on circuits, in glory bask,
With gear that’s high-end, a luxurious flask?”
The answer, they say, lies not in the thrill,
Or chasing the apex, or mastering the hill.
It’s not about being first or chasing the bill,
It's about one man's influence, an indomitable will.
Peter, oh Peter, with a passion so true,
You spoke of sim rigs, the skies so blue.
Your tales of adrenaline, as the engine grew,
Made us yearn for the gear, our interests you drew.
It was Peter’s ardor, his infectious glee,
That had everyone saying, “I want to be free!”
To race in the sims, feel the wind, the spree,
With a wheel and pedals, as real as can be.
So, when you see racers, with gear pristine,
Remember Peter, the unseen vaccine.
He spread the fever, the sim racing gene,
Blame it on him, for this racing machine.
Now every time a wallet feels light,
As another buys gear, shining and bright,
We chuckle and think, with sheer delight,
“That’s another one caught by Peter’s invite.”
since a while my crazy postings cause this phrase - people tell it to their wife's to excuse on no needed purchases - after some time it went international - hence "Peter ist schuld" became "Peter's fault"
why a dedicated post - many thanks @RCHeliguy - you had the discussion with chatgpt and asked about Peter's Fault - do not ask me why - its just funny and i need to share
- and i love itIn a realm where wheels turn and engines roar,
Where virtual tracks span miles galore,
Every racing enthusiast dreams to soar,
But now, we’ve a new folklore to explore.
“Oh, why this need,” many would ask,
“To sit in a rig, perform the task?
To speed on circuits, in glory bask,
With gear that’s high-end, a luxurious flask?”
The answer, they say, lies not in the thrill,
Or chasing the apex, or mastering the hill.
It’s not about being first or chasing the bill,
It's about one man's influence, an indomitable will.
Peter, oh Peter, with a passion so true,
You spoke of sim rigs, the skies so blue.
Your tales of adrenaline, as the engine grew,
Made us yearn for the gear, our interests you drew.
It was Peter’s ardor, his infectious glee,
That had everyone saying, “I want to be free!”
To race in the sims, feel the wind, the spree,
With a wheel and pedals, as real as can be.
So, when you see racers, with gear pristine,
Remember Peter, the unseen vaccine.
He spread the fever, the sim racing gene,
Blame it on him, for this racing machine.
Now every time a wallet feels light,
As another buys gear, shining and bright,
We chuckle and think, with sheer delight,
“That’s another one caught by Peter’s invite.”
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