What Grinds My Gears

Cyclists who take the 'share the road policy' too seriously....


You know what Im talking about, you'll be driving home from a long day at work, tired and thinking of chilling on your couch with a cold brew to relax after having to wipe the dribble from the mouth of corporate America's infantile ineptitude. You'll fight traffic all the way home and when you are about 3 blocks from your apartment it happens. Out comes this jackass dressed to the nines like hes training for the Tour de GAAAAY riding in the middle of the damn road. Now one would logically think that they would ride in the designated bike lane, you know the one, it has the bicycle painted on it and says BIKE LANE. Now this lane may be good enough for you recreational bikers, but NOT for the CYCLIST. Oh no, you see riding the bike lane for these guys is riding the proverbial taint of cycling bravado. To them, status is measured on going toe-to-toe with the desperate housewives driving their husbands giant SUV but in the end all they do is grind my gears.

Driving home I get behind this douche who clearly thinks he could kick Lance Armstrong in his sole remaining nut and roll into history as the next Tour de GAAAAAY winner. Hes got the tight pants the tight shirt, the butt cushion, the 4 billion dollar aerodynamic helmet, the gloves made from baby seal skin for better grip, the 6 water bottles filled with a mix of water and Christ's blood, the shoes that snap into place, calf muscles that scream I touch myself when I look in the mirror, and so on. And of COURSE I get behind him at the worst point in his workout, you know what I mean, when he is in a really high gear so he is pedalling like crazy and going about 5 miles an hour......"Its cardio conditioning bra, gotta get my swell on"....EFF YOU.....and why is it that you aren't coming home from work like me, how can you be riding already? Oh wait I forgot, you work at the movie theater during the afternoon and sit in your ticket booth decked out with pictures of men riding bikes and tell all your customers the number of their theater, your time on the 5,000 meter sprint, and to enjoy their show.....you douche....and so here I am forced to sit and stare at your lame ass as you ride down the middle of the street and of course get through the intersection just in time for the longest light on my commute to turn red, forcing me and everyone behind me to honk and flip out......And though I know you will never be good enough to race in anything bigger than the KMART race for kid with *insert obscure disease fad of the year*, I admire your undeserved sense of accomplishment and your need to hold up hard working Americans on their ride home....from all of us here at The Boosh International, a hardy EFF YOU.