Bursting someone's bubble is a sad, horrible thing...and by someone I mean a 9 year old who firmly believes he is Spiderman (AKA my cousin Nick). On the other hand, bursting the bubble of a psychotic cyclist who believes the fancy clips on his pedals have earned him a place on the road is not only my right, but my duty. And so to all you delusional cyclists, contrary to popular belief, calf muscles actually don't constitute as engines, and since I know for damn sure your bike is not equipped with a hemi, GET OFF THE ROAD!
Before everyone gets their biker shorts in a bundle, let me clarify a couple of things. First and foremost, I don't have it out for cyclists the world over. I love a good bike ride myself, minus the aching feeling I get in my ass by the time I'm done. Secondly, I'm not addressing the innocent leisure cyclists who keep to the sidewalks and bike paths, or the little kids riding around on their cul-de-sacs. You know who I'm talking about. The roiding cyclist who believes he can bike as fast as traffic and who is usually found perched in a turn lane waiting for the light to turn green, or riding along in a manner which makes him impossible to pass while the empty bike path 10 feet to his right taunts you as you contemplate running him over.
For all of you who fit this profile I'd like to take this opportunity to say that unless your nifty little bike has a jet pack that has simply escaped my notice you don't belong on the road with me. And no, I honestly don't care that you've spent hundreds of dollars to make yourself and your bike flawlessly aerodynamic. What does concern me, however, is the fact that the police refuse to arrest people on the grounds of, "He's an idiot!" yet they won't hesitate to lock me away for life should I accidently run you over. Yes, yes...I'm sure you can go very fast, but I'm also positive that my V8 engine goes faster. It's the nature of the beast my friend. While you are madly pumping away at your pedals I simply have to rest my foot on mine. If this is a hard concept for you to grasp, swing by and I'll strap on my running shoes and dart around in front of your bike not allowing you to pass. Chances are you can ride your bicycle faster than I can run and you shall become annoyed very quickly. And when that happens, apology accepted.
Although you are quite possibly the next candidate for a Bud Light's Real Men of Genius jingle, Mr. I'm Too Good for the Sidewalk Man, that does not give you any real celebrity status, which may have otherwise prevented me from leaving a nice tire track down your backside. And while I have your attention, answer me this: What's wrong with the bike path? At what point does your ego get so large that it prevents you from riding on the area designated for you? I don't ride my truck down the sidewalk, can't you show me the same level of courtesy by staying the hell off the street? Have a good one!
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