Two Posts For The Price of One?!?

Okay, I got two today.
First off, I've spent the last six weeks spending Monday to Thursday, from about two until about ten, driving a bus on TTC's Symington 168 route, which goes from Dundas West Station through a rather circuitous route up to Rogers and Weston Roads. The route doesn't matter; the main thing is that I go through several rather dense residential neighbourhoods that aren't on major transit lines. Which means that the roads are positively covered with the foulest slime ever to haul itself from a Teamster's armpit. The kind of person you'd like to trick into drinking cow urine.

You know.

Cyclists.

Now, I don't mean all people who ride bicycles; some of those people are okay. They go off in the bush and ride over bumpy things, or they use bike paths. No, my focus today is on people who ride bikes in places where I want to drive. I don't care about any cyclist in the world right now. Because I'm not driving right now. So when I say 'cyclist' I mean a person who is using a bicycle to fuck up my day.

So, with the definitions out of the way, I'd like to say that all cyclist can rectally insert one of these. And they can give it a wiggle for me. I hate all cyclists, for the following reasons:

1. They demand all the rights that a vehicle has on the road, and then refuse to act like one. They don't signal, they don't yield right of way when they're supposed to, they generally don't wear the legally required helmet, and they blow right the fuck through stop signs and red lights. And now they expect me to treat them like they have as much right to the road as me? That's like Bill O'Reilly going to a MENSA meeting and claiming to be a genius by virtue of just being in the room. He's not. Never will be. Far from it, in fact. And a bicycle is not a vehicle. If it were a vehicle, it would have a license plate. And it would require a license to drive it, for that matter. It would have real live mandatory safety equipment, and you would never ever be allowed to drive it on the sidewalk. It would be able to sustain travel at the speed limit and not obstruct traffic. It would have signals of some kind, and perhaps a headlight. Oh, wait! That sounds familiar! Hey, isn't that pretty much a description of a motorcycle? Wow! They already have these things! And they're not a pain in the ass! So, bicycles, then, are for children to practice on until they are old enough for a motorcycle. Well, that was easy.

2. Why do you have to dress like a speed skater in order to ride a bicycle? There are two kinds of cyclists: Normal-looking people, who are generally either bearded hippi-esque student types or forty-year old dudes that obviously got their license pulled for one too may DUI's, and there are the bike psychos. And there are way, way more bike psychos. These douchebags always have the racer sportif look, with the wraparound sunglasses and the aerodynamic helmet. They wear those shoes that you clip in to the pedals (as if that really makes a difference on Rogers Road) and wear pants so tight I can see what they had for lunch yesterday. Fuck off. I don't want to look at your ass, magnificently displayed though it may be. You don't need the little belt pack with four little Nalgene water bottles. You don't need the little shoes. You don't need the special bike shirt or the special bike gloves or any of that shit. You've spent six hundred dollars to look like a retard while cycling for exercise. Are you a competitive bicycle racer? Then how come I've never heard of you, and you're fifty? This is not the Tour de France, this is what you do for an hour after work to get away from your asshole wife and kids. I don't dispute that you can probably push the pedals aaround in a circle longer than me, but can you do it better than me? Really? Is there that much to it, apart from an overall circular motion? Does the shirt help? It can't be a wind resistance thing; you're only going thirty. Fuck off.

I may have said this earlier, but I hate cyclists. I hate their bikes. I hate the narrow patch of road that they ride on. I hate their clothing. I hate their children. I hate myself, for breathing the same air as them. If all cyclists were herded into a rocket ship (you could prpbably just tell them all there was the world's smallest pair of pants in there) and shot them into the sun, I would fraudulently remortgage my parents' house to throw a massive party.

And the other thing is, I finally sprung for a receiver for my record player, and have switched to vinyl. Andrew knows about this one firsthand, having switched a couple of years ago. I snagged a mint copy of Van Halen I for a whole four dollars at this place called Disocvery Records, in Scarberia. Cool place. And at Sonic Boom, I found all of the Beatles' albums, brand new. Current reissues. Shrink-wrapped, even. Haven't bought them yet ($27 each) but I will. I've even got two Rush records (Hemispheres and Permanent Waves). Long live vinyl.

See you around, and fuck cyclists.