Let it ride

Posted: July 8, 2017 in Whingevism
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Okay, I’m going to come right out and say it. I’m a cyclist. That’s right, I’m a fucking maniac. I did say cyclist and not terrorist, although I believe the difference is only slight. Every day, I jump on my suicide machine and let people who obviously found their driver’s licence in a breakfast cereal box, “share” the road with me.

Let me explain “share”, it’s an interesting concept for your average Melbourne motorist. Picture a normal 3 year old who notices someone handle any one of their million toys.

“Waaaaaaaah… MINE!” *snatch*

Now if you take that 3 year old and fast forward 15+ years, they’re now behind the wheel of that toy… now a two tonne death machine.. only their mental capacity remains the same.

“Waaaaaah… THAT ROAD IS MINE!” *honk* *bash* *bird*

In establishing why cyclists are endangered species, my interviews with motorists have revealed a common theme. “I pay my fucking taxes, therefore this is my road, you shouldn’t be here… fuck you.”

Fuck you indeed. In my defence, I’m not the worst kind of cyclist out there. For example, I don’t wear lycra, I don’t shave my legs and I also own and drive two cars and two motorbikes, but that’s not really important.

The question is why would you do something so dangerous? I mean, people take less risks jumping out of a plane, cliff diving or any other extreme sport. What’s more, the people that participate in extreme sports are always “cool.” It’s like…

Extreme sport cool dude: “Hey, did you see me up there, doing that double 2 and a half twist, while I was chugging my sponsors sports drink?”
Spectator: “You’re so awesome”
Extreme sport cool dude: “I just live for the moment”
Spectator: “But you’re so awesome”
Extreme sport cool dude: “I know… right!?!”

Cyclists on the other hand, we’re not cool, we’re just extreme sport psychopathic without the wow factor.
Cyclist “Hey, did you see me?”
Motorist: ……
Cyclist “Hey, I’m not kidding, did you see me?”
Motorist: ……
Motorist: …… *doomph* “What was that? Hmmm, probably nothing… My car is so awesome.”

But there’s a few good reasons why I cycle.

Firstly, the price of fuel. Petrol is expensive and my car likes to drink more than a wino in charge of a micro-brewery. Being a slave, my disposable income is important because without it, I can’t buy drugs to help perpetuate my delusion that I’m rich and powerful. I can’t afford to blow it on fuel. Never mind the fact that by purchasing fuel, you are funding some Oil Baron in the Middle East who likes goats (I mean, REALLY LIKES) and supporting ISS. Therefore being against cruelty to animals (with the exception of humans), I ride to minimise goat intercourse in the Middle East and prevent terrorism. Don’t look at me like that, it makes sense people!

The environment… you know the place we breathe and eat from… the one we shit all over. What’s that, you drive a hybrid? Your conscience is clear as you charge your car with electricity generated by a coal fired smog producing apocalypse? Good one! Look, Melbourne weather is appalling, a few degrees warmer in the Winter wouldn’t be a bad thing, but as you look on any major city from the outskirts, it’s not hard to see that our vehicles, which manufacturers say meet modern Euro emission standards (good one Volkswagon), are still causing us to passively smoke the equivalent of a million Cuban cigars. The problem is, you aren’t holding that bit fat cigar like an untouchable drug overlord are you?!? No, you’re sucking down the second hand fumes and choking like Greg Norman on a million dollar putt. That’s not cool, that’s embarrassing.

Exercise. Can you see the powerful keystrokes I use to punch out this text? I didn’t just get this ripped sitting at my desk typing a pointless blog. No, there’s only one way to get buff and that’s serious physical exercise with a balanced diet of room temperature water and lettuce leaf. Commuting by bicycle is a whole body workout. Firstly, your vocal chords get exercised to their limit as you try to beg for your life through the tinted sound proof windows of your oppressors as they listen to their favourite boy band. Then there’s the constant shaking of your fist as they drive off into the distance.

Next is traffic. Have you seen it? The cars move so slowly around here, that you can actually see yourself aging in the rear view mirror on the commute home. I rode past a group of motorists who I swear had only moved 100 metres or so on my return trip the following day. What’s really weird is that they were sitting in their fart chamber, looking as refreshed as a zombie, but still gazing ahead with a misguided sense of optimism that they were somehow making progress. “Yeah… we’ll be moving any time now. Shouldn’t be too long before North Korea abandon their nuclear program.”

At what point do you look out the side window and watch a pedestrian overtake your high performance vehicle and think, “You know, I might be wasting my fucking time here! I guess I could get out and walk too, but I’m so fat now, I’d probably have a heart attack on that 5 degree incline. I’m so fucked.”

But you see, they aren’t fucked, it’s the cyclists that are fucked. The fart chamber freaks are going to live to 100, modern medicine guarantees it. Meanwhile the fit healthy sexy cyclists get mowed down like bugs before they even get to the pub! And what about those bugs anyway?

  1. twaldron2014 says:

    I never knew you were in Australia! I was once the motorist guy who got accused by a lycra clad bicyclist of having almost hit him when I never actually saw him. Really liked the two dialogue pieces. I need to read more. I feel overwhelmed trying to keep up with the writing.

    • Puffetic says:

      I don’t normally reveal my location, being ashamed of my convict heritage and inferior breeding. However since I’m advocating for all cyclists to carry assault rifles in traffic, I may as well embrace that heritage. “Oh, you didn’t see me? No problem, eat lead!”

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