You just made my list!

“Hey everyone, look at me, my bike is different and I love NPR.”

Oh brother. I just rolled my eyes so hard that I lost my balance and fell off my chair. Speaking of chairs and balance, I sure do hate recumbent bikes. What’s it going to be? Are you going for a bike ride or are you relaxing in your favorite chair? Take your pick, because you look like a douche-sack when you do both simultaneously.

We get it, you love world music, you aren’t afraid to eat Ethiopian food, you mow your yard with one of those old timey push mowers and nothing gives you a bigger boner than listening to Garrison Keillor on your iPod while riding around on your wacky bike.

I use the Johnny Cash formula to decide if something is cool or not. Anyone can use this proven method, it’s easy. For example, would Johnny Cash have ridden a motorcycle? Yes, ergo motorcycles are cool. Would Johnny Cash wash a handful of pills down with a beer? Yes, therefore abusing prescription medicine and alcohol is cool. Now, would Johnny Cash cruise around Connecticut on some asswipe recumbent bike? Fuck no!

I’m on the brink of barfing up the lasagna I just ate just from the mere thought of my shins. Thinking of a thin layer of skin over bone makes me asjhgdddddddddddddd… Sorry, I passed out and my head landed on the keyboard.

I hate all areas of the body where skin is next to bone or cartilage without a layer of delicious fat. My ranking from bad to worse is as follows:

1) Fingers – Not horrible but close to upsetting me.
2) Nose – My face hurts just from thinking about the bridge of my nose.
3) Sternum – I want to crawl out of my skin when I think of my sternum.
4) Shins – FUCK OFF!

My hatred of shins began when I was a child and spent most of my summers with bruised and scraped legs. I remember one day when my shoelaces got tangled in my bicycle and I was forced to hobble home several blocks with my boney shins bumping and scraping against the pedals with every step. I’m pretty sure I cried the entire way home while tied to my yellow Schwinn Stingray. Side note: why the fuck did my parents buy me a yellow bike and why didn’t I just take my shoes off rather than limp home like an idiot? I hate myself.

This is a case where I almost feel a little guilty and start to wonder why so many things bug me. But who cares, I just hate people who took the time to learn how to unicycle. It’s such a “look at me, pay attention to me” kind of thing to do (unlike blogging). It’s bad enough when someone rides a normal unicycle but then there are those turds who ride the super tall unicycles. They are the worst people in the world. The only thing that could make the unicycle scene worse would be if they held their own critical mass and rode around in traffic juggling and looking smug.

I have nothing against people riding bikes (except these cock holes) and I have nothing against trying to burn less gas by riding a bike BUT if you have ever been hijacked by these assholes you can understand my anger.

If you don’t know what “Critical Mass” is consider yourself lucky. The last Friday night of every month hundreds of bikers gather and ride through urban areas causing traffic jams with smirks on their ironically mustached faces. They ride in a large group and take great joy in holding up traffic by stopping in busy intersections and riding around in circles. In general it’s a parade of assholes that pisses everyone off.

It’s the typical, misguided, hippie theory of protesting. Make sure EVERYONE hates you at all times!

“Hey dudes, like we should teach everyone about how awesome bikes are. I was thinking we could like hold up traffic and make everyone hate the sight of a bicycle and like show people how much gas cars waste by making them waste more gas while we block their yuppie asses. It will be totally sweet and create even more pollution. Now, where’s my mustache wax?”

Can you tell I was just trapped by these douchebags on Friday? Idiots.

You know how I know there is no God? Every time I see a dirty hippy on their tall bike I pray to God and baby Jesus they will fall. I don’t want them to get hurt (maybe a little) but I do desperately want them to tip over. This is the only thing I ever pray for and when I’m praying for it I’m praying hard. Here’s God’s chance to prove his existence but nothing ever happens. I’ll tell you this, if God is on the side of the tall bikers I don’t want any part of his lame ass.

Does your city have these assholes? Here’s an idea, spend a little more time in the shower and a little less time forcing two bikes to fuck each other for all of eternity. You already have a hilarious, ironic mustache, guy, how much more attention do you need? Are you really that desperate to be noticed? Is it because nobody ever goes to your drum circle even though you put like a million flyers up all over the place? These urban clowns are like the smelly, poor version of these jerks. “Look at me all the way up here. Love me. Think I’m different. Me and all these other tall bike guys are different, right?” These guys are really stickin’ it to the man with their outrageously tall bikes, if the man is a normal human being who showers more than once a month.

In summation, fuck off and quit hoggin’ all the bikes!