Don't You Hate These Bastards

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This was during morning drive time in Syracuse. I was still drinking my coffee, talking on the phone, reading my texts and trying to get a quick glance at the box score for the first place, 27-time World Champion Yankees when this idiot cut across me on his bike while giving me a point to the right as if I weren't about to blast him off his 10-speed.

At least he was wearing a helmet.

I blame Lance Armstrong. I do. He supposedly made it cool to ride your bike all over town as if you weren't seven years old.

I also blame George W.

Why not?

But save on gas, save on gas, save on gas...made idiots like this ride their bike all over my highway.

I also blame Richard Simmonds. (Or however he spells his name).

Exercise. Get skinny. Ride your bike. It's good to get the heart racing.

Blah, freaking blah.

Tell me, Richard, how am I supposed to balance my sausage and egg mcmuffin, my coffee cup, and the newspaper while these idiots are cutting in and out of traffic?

I can ride a bike. I haven't done it in awhile, but it's sort of like riding a bike. I would feel like a damn idiot riding it into work unless I was a BIKE messenger in New York City.

Thankfully, no one was hurt in the making of this blog. I'm half-kidding about the texting and the coffee and the eating and the talking on the phone as I drive.

I did sneak a look at the box score though.

Bring on the Red Sux!

And if you're out for a stroll on your bikey, stay on the freaking sidewalk!

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