Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Cyclists Suck Concrete Donkey Dick.
Some shithead stole the mud-guard off my bike yesterday. Who steals a mud-guard? What are you going to do with it? Is there some drug dealer out there with zero business sense that’s trading crack for mud-guards? I doubt it. This brings me to the conclusion that who ever stole my mud-guard probably wanted it for their bike. God damn cyclist.
There’s been a lot of talk about motorists and cyclists not getting along in Toronto lately. I’ll admit that biking to work everyday I come across a lot of drivers that piss me off but usually it’s because they’re just not paying attention. They treat their car like they’re own little apartment on wheels. They sit in there and talk on their phone, finger their Blackberry, eat garbage, shave, do their make-up, smoke cigarettes. Hell some of them even do this.
My point is that most of them aren’t assholes so much as they’re just clueless. I have far more problems with the other cyclists on the road. They’re often rude, inconsiderate of every other vehicle on the road and many of them are idiots. In no particular order here’s a list of some of my most hated cyclists:
The guy who even though he’s not as fast as me he still can’t take being passed and will use all his remaining energy to get past me again only to run out of steam and force me to pass him again. Actually this guy is kind of funny in a sad way but I still hate him.
Painfully slow but he rides through every red light and stop sign so you have to keep passing him over and over. He’s also the guy that jumps the line at red lights. If you’re going to pass me STAY FUCKING PAST ME!!
The Bell Ringer
This is usually a woman. She will ride for 10 city blocks past row after row of parked cars dinging her bell at every single one of them to make sure they know she’s passing and don’t open their doors. Getting stuck behind her in a narrow lane where you can’t pass is a maddening experience. If you’re that paranoid snow-flake maybe you should take the fucking bus.
Parents that let them selves go after having a baby and decide to dig the bikes out of the garage and get some exercise. They often ride a rickety old piece of shit that hasn’t been ridden since 1982. They won’t tune it or even dust it but they will strap a $2,000 mobile tent containing their precious little fuck trophy and trundle down the bike lanes all weekend bumping over curbs and side swiping cars when they miss-judge turns.
Mid-Life Crisis Riders
Middle -aged men that work downtown and decide to take up the sport of cycling. They buy $8,000 bikes and shoe-horn their doughy frame into skin tight spandex complete with racing logos down their milk bag thighs. Although it’s often a quick flash as I easily pass them, the image of that tiny seat crammed up that fat ass often haunts me for the rest of my ride. They also bother me simply for the fact that their bike is a complete waste of money. It’s like watching a the rich girl get a brand new Porsche for her 16th birthday. That bike will no doubt be sold at a garage sale in a year’s time for $200. Also I feel bad for the co-workers that accidently walk in on them changing into that outfit and see their junk.
Special mention goes to Bike Couriers. Although they are insane, obey no traffic laws and seem to dress as if they live in some sort of post-apocalyptic wasteland I can not really criticize them as they are out their everyday and compared to them my short commute is nothing but a mere jaunt.
Also special mention goes to homeless guys/crack- heads. True that I encounter many of them coming at me the wrong way while riding impassable contraptions covered in aluminum foil and liquor bags. They have little regard for their own life never mind mine.
P.S. Two months ago someone (no doubt the same piece of shit) stole my front wheel.