Have you yelled at a stoned guy on a pink recumbent bike?
There are quite a few dickheads like you out there who have nothing better to do than yell shit at me when I'm riding my bike, and I would appreciate it if you stopped.
I hate living in Seaside. This shitty little tourist trap of a town gets on my nerves like no other, and I've been stuck here for over a year. I get high and ride my bike because it's a catharsis; I'm trying to get away from you fucks.
You know exactly who you are: drunkards, old people, poseurs, skanks, yuppies, white trash, children of drunken white trash or yuppies, etc. You come here from Portland, which is a beautiful city, to see the beach. Once you're here, you realize that the beach is where dirt meets water, so you get bored and do things like blow money on overpriced crap from local merchants who make their fortunes by selling, well, overpriced crap to idiot tourists, and/or you get drunk at one of the many bars downtown. After you blow all your money on useless shit or alcoholic beverages, you look for someone different from you to fuck with, because that's what makes this country great.
My bike, which is a 2001 BikeE CT with a red anodized aluminum frame which you retards think is pink for some reason, is certainly different.
It looks a little different, therefore we must YELL AT THE PERSON RIDING IT INCESSANTLY!
You idiots yell at me at least 5-10 times a day, depending upon what time of day I go riding. You'd think that, given the sheer number of times per day I'm yelled at, there would be a little variation in the dialogue, but there's not. People typically only yell at me to slow down/watch out, or to tell me that I have a nice bike.
Guess what, dipshits. I know I'm going fast. You don't need to tell me. If I crash, I'm going to get hurt. Thus, instinct dictates that I avoid it. If you really want to avoid an accident, perhaps you should get the fuck out of the way rather than tell me my business. Do you know why I go 40mph down the promenade? Because I'm able to do it safely. The only threat to my safety is you: the heroic town criers that insist upon making sure that everyone around them behaves a certain way instead of looking out for yourself and adapting to your surroundings like a rational being. If you don't want any harm to come to your fat, tick-like wife and ugly, ugly children, then perhaps your antithesis of a functional family shouldn't take up the entire width of a sidewalk that is designated for bicycle traffic.
For those of you who want to compliment me on my bike, you seriously, sincerely, need to keep your goddamned trap shut. I have a cool bike? No fucking shit. I thought the same thing when I saw it, hence why I own it. WOW! Am I going REEEEEAAAALLY FAST? I guess you'd better yell that at me as I'm barrelling down a hill passing moving cars, because I would never know otherwise.
Seriously, how fucked in the head do you have to be in order to get your jollies by yelling inane bullshit at complete strangers in public places? Just fucking stop. Leave me alone. Let me ride in peace.
Also, please don't contact me for anything, ever.