My Lamentation
You know what I hate?
Cyclists. For Pete’s sake!
I don’t know who Pete is but, my guess is he’s the d-bag that was wearing the unitard, ruining my life on the road today. But yeah, for his sake. His life is in danger.
Face it, you ride bikes. In big groups. And call yourselves things like, “Pelentons.” FAIL. On top of all of this you deem it necessary to squeeze yourself into brightly colored spandex, (which may I just add, does not do you male “cyclists” out there any justice). DO YOU KNOW HOW RIDICULOUS YOU LOOK!?
You are a not vehicle. Ok, Maybe for humiliation, but you lack the self-awareness to cease and desist your gruesome display of physical prowess. Oh no, I’m not talking about those chaps who do the whole Tour de France thing, those guys are hard-frickin-core and totally B.A.
You, are not those guys. Shhhh quiet down Sally. You’re not. We all know it. We see you. All over the place. Wrecking traffic. Complaining when we don’t acknowledge your existence on the road. When we don’t yeild to you, in your stupid lane, when making right turns. Pointing which direction you’re about to go, as if, if my car had a mind of it’s own, it’s 3000 lbs of winning would respect your dainty little signal for concession to your right of way. Oh yes, we see you.
How about this. When on the road, yeild to what you could not defeat in a fight. And, let’s face it, Cycle<Automobile.
If you want to look like you care about something, or why ever the heck you ride your bike to and fro, and be treated like a vehicle, buy a SmartCar. It’s slightly less pointless and, I promise, you’ll look just as ridiculous.
Cyclists remind me of Pinnochio, always trying to be something you’re not and getting pissed when you get run the eff over!
