Don’t Let This Be You

I finished my 5th or 6th MS Bike ride this weekend. I could write up a post about how hard is was riding in the rain and wind (brutal) or regale you some funny thing that happened, but I feel like I’ve traveled that path before and will spare you the tedium. Instead…..

Here is a little life tip for you: If you are driving your truck (and it is ALWAYS a truck) in the pouring rain on a road with a small shoulder, see a bike (actually, lots of bikes) riding that shoulder and you neither slow down or move to the left when passing, you are a dick. Not maybe a dick. Not sometimes a dick. Always a dick. A D.I.C.K. dick. You probably also Hollywood park across multiple handicap spots and wouldn’t give up your seat on public transit to a pregnant lady, with a stroller. And a toddler (“I paid for this seat same as you lady”). You will die friendless and alone. You will be one of those guys they find in his apartment weeks after they die because no one noticed you were gone. Your obituary will read “Man with abnormally small penis dies. Anyone want his compensatory truck?”

Specifically to the guy in the jacked up black Ram on Range Road 20 between Crossfield and Didsbury at about 1:30 on Saturday, June 22, probably with your naked girl mudflaps and bull balls hanging off the trailer hitch for your back country destroying jacked up jeep: I sure wish you would have stopped when you had to have seen that one fingered salute I gave you. I know you would have likely wiped up the wet pavement with me after I explained your dickitude to you (Actually, maybe not with the army of pissed off cyclist that would have come to my defence in their rain pants and spandex armed with water bottles and little tire pumps. I shudder just thinking about it) but it would have been so worth it. Dick.

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