Wednesday, June 13, 2012


I'm still not sure if I completely agree with the above image, which I came upon via my friend Taylor.  To be honest, I don't get yelled at by motorists very often.  And when I do, it usually comes across as something like this:  "HAY WANDA MOTCH TO NA GREP NO!"

I'm sure whatever they said was absolutely hilarious, but next time they're going to need to open their mouth a little wider when they speak.

My normal response to being yelled at is to laugh.  Because when people flap their mouths wildly and scream unintelligible drivel at me, I find it amusing.  And as a cyclist sharing the roadway with two-ton ballistic death machines, with nothing to protect my frail frame and vital organs except my wits and a small shard of foam strapped to my head, being yelled at is probably at the very bottom of my list of concerns.  Farther up on the list would be the motorists who accidentally cut me off, or are driving distracted, or don't see me as they're trying to make their turn, etc.  Farther up the list still are the malicious assholes who purposefully try to frighten and intimidate me.  While occurrences with this breed of moron are notably less common and no more dangerous than your everyday oop-I-didn't-see-that-cyclist ones, they're the ones that really stick with me.  And they make me very, very angry.

So, sure, I'll go ahead and wave when I get yelled at by a passing car.  But I'm not going to have a free hand to wave with when I'm being run off the road by a knuckle-dragging ass-clown behind the wheel of his mom's minivan.

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