Fuck the what? 

It’s been a while since I’ve posted something, so I thought I’d write a nice, long observation on a hilarious life event. 

Nah. 

Instead here’s a photo of something that literally stopped me in my tracks. 

 Seriously? 

Apparently cyclists can only read words in the order they are presented. 

Finest its at idiocy is this. 

This is the wurst

Once you’ve seen a male cyclist come out of a coffee shop wearing the tightest lycra shorts that not only draw attention to his bulge, but highlight every subtle detail clearly and concisely in the cold light of day, you simply cannot unsee it again.

beef and pork stick

Near Miss

This morning, whilst walking to the office, my wife and I saw a man cross the road in front of a cyclist.

To be honest, he had plenty of time to cross the road before she reached him, but I think he knew she was coming and had decided to walk so painfully slow that the cyclist had to swerve, barely missing him.

Although it could never be proved, we all knew he was trying to demonstrate it was his right of way (which it wasn’t); forcing her to slow down (which she didn’t).

As she whizzed by he looked up and shouted “Fuck off!”

Without hesitation she replied “Charming!”

London…the friendliest city in the world.

Bike Near Miss

Cycle-path-ic tendencies

While walking to the office this morning, after the nightmare train journey into London, I heard a distinct “Fucking idiot!” from the other side of the busy road.

Of course my attention was drawn to it straight away and I saw the aftermath of a man who had clearly stepped out in front of a cyclist without looking.

The cyclist was stood there with his bike between his legs; front wheel on the floor and the back wheel up behind his back.  It was clear he’d slammed on the brakes causing the bike to stop suddenly, and him a little less suddenly.

He’d then obviously performed that awkward stumbling forward like a man with 50lb testicles which had resulted in the bike riding up behind him.

The man who had stepped out in front of him had chosen to continue walking; ignoring the chaos and carnage he’d left behind.

The cyclist loudly shouted something at him as he walked away, but I didn’t hear much of what he said due to the noise of the traffic.  I did pick out the words ‘prick’ and ‘fucking’, so I suspect it wasn’t, “please be careful when stepping out into the road, I’d hate for you to be injured”.

The cyclist hopped back onto his bike and cycled away, turning a corner out of view.

The man was going the same way as me, but on the other side of the road and before long we came to another junction in the road.  It was at this point the cyclist came out from the side road, pulled up next to him and made SURE the man had clearly understood what a “complete fucking prick” he was.

He didn’t argue it.

He would’ve lost.

bike rage