Fat Dyke Bitch

I am the bike rider.  I have given up my beloved California driving to  save the world. 

I don't know why, but you hate me.  Do you hate the freedom of movement? .   Maybe you hate that I break the law.  You never do.   I can run a red light, go the wrong direction, go on the sidewalk, and weave in and out of cars, and the local police do not care.   Drivers get away with much more deadly violations of the law.

As I swoop to the front of the line you move over to the right to try to block me.  Big black SUV's come within inches to prove that they can. I sense them behind me and hold tight and straight as they try to scare me.  They do.

 I suspect you hate me for getting ahead of you. Your hatred is based on ONE stoplight..    It never occurs to you that your average speed and weight are vastly higher than mine.   You forget that I am slower, smaller, wetter, and will get their more slowly than you.

You almost hit me  as you try to commit assault with a deadly weapon.  

 I flip you the bird.

You yell,"Fat Dyke Bitch!!!!"    I yell back  "two out of three is not bad"  


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