Webmasta hates cyclists.

"Webmasta" says: http://www.dolemite.com/blog/index.php?/archives/4-I-hate-cyclists.html

"I see you every day, riding around in your gay little uniforms with sponsorships all over them. Wise up jackass! You sit in a cubicle all day and wipe boogers in the carpet. No one is sponsoring you while you ride around my fucking neighborhood."


Nice! And I see *you* in your straight little jeans-and-tucked-in-Tshirt-and-baseball-cap uniform. Yay uniforms! Wait, you see me riding around your neighbourhood AND at my job leaning over to rub my boogers in the carpet? You're following me around! You have a crush on me! [blush]. But nobody is sponsoring you while you drive your truck around your neighbourhood, so I'm not terribly impressed. Sorry. Also, I'm not terribly impressed by anyone who stalks a person who rubs boogers in carpets. That's some lame stalking.


"The next asshole that runs a stop sign while I'm in the crosswalk is going to get a broom handle in the spokes."


So, YOU'RE the person who's been following me around! I totally thought I was seeing the crazy person with the broom an awful lot around my workplace lately.


"Take the asshole that wanted to see how tightly he could hug a turn at full speed."


I WILL take him! He sounds scrumptious. You haven't hurt him with your broom yet though, have you? Will you be jealous if I take him?


"I can thank the great and mighty George Hincapie (apparent heir to the Lance Armstrong legacy) who lives in the area. Fuck him and fuck his no riding ass in the Tour de France."


I'm glad you can thank him. Thanking is fun, hey? And you want me to violate him during the Tour de France while he's not riding? I assume you want to watch, too, you naughty voyeur.


"None of you can rebut a single word I've said because you know I'm 100% right."


Well, yeah, you're right. I can't rebut you. I can't even but you. You're just too, I dunno, out there. Too kinky for me. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But the boogers, the broom, the voyeurism... it's all too much for me.


"Don't you have some ointment to put on your chaffed thighs or something?"


Ok, see, I appreciate your interest. I don't judge you for having desires that are, well, racier than mine. But wait! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I know this one! I can rebut you now! Obviously my thighs aren't chapped, because, as you have pointed out, I wear my "gay little uniform" to prevent chapping. I know, I know, now you want my gorgeous booger-rubbing, non-chafed self even more. Sorry! But nice ruse, you trickster.


"While your response is heartfelt and I can really feel your pain, you still did not address the fundamental issue. Why do cyclists refuse to obey simple road rules?"


Well, back before I knew how much of a kinky bad boy you really are, I thought you were just a regular-type bad boy, and I kinda wanted to impress you, so I was all law-breaky when I saw the broom-person. ... Oh, wait, you mean why do cyclists other than me break the law? Well, have you ever ridden a bike? It's actually physically impossible to obey the law when you're on a bike. It's kind of like lifting yourself up by the collar. Just against the laws of physics. I think maybe bikes are magic. Or cursed. Well, lots of people think that magic IS a curse. But I don't. I like magic. Hence my cycling.


"You failed the first rule my father taught me when I used to cycle with him: DON'T RIDE ON BUSY ROADS."


Damn, that's the first time I've failed a rule. I have no excuse, but I'll tell you the reasons I failed your father's rule. First, I didn't know your father. He sounds like a wild, zany guy, though. Second, I didn't see the rule at first because I generally don't see text that's typed in all-caps. I think it might be the magic from my cursed bike lingering on me when I get off my bike and cruise the net looking for sexy crazy broom-people. It's caused me a lot of grief over the years. Apparently I've missed a lot of important messages about making my manhood bigger, receiving millions of money from people in various African nations, staying happy with the help of angels, and hump day.


Well, Webmasta, it's been fun, but I think I covered everything I need to cover here. I invite my readers, though, to check out all the lovely bike-hating comments and bike-hater-hating counter-comments on your blog.


Good luck in your search, Webmasta, and thanks for the laughs!