I am still dealing with a pile of scratch-off lottery tickets I bought from the proceeds of turning my entire first every-week "Mr. Wrong" column paycheck into a pile of scratch-off lottery tickets that I scratched-off, but seriously, doing a whole bunch of scratch-offs all at once is mega-hella borings to the Infinity-power. I'm only halfway through the second pile, and I'm finding it hard to keep track of all the little numbers and symbols and stuff in case I win, so this is gonna take a while but I will inform you of the results of these scratch-offs in a future episode of the "Mr. Wrong" column. Especially if I win big.
Meanwhile, now that it's warm enough and I am being killed by pollen, all the boneheads are out zooming around on their motorcycles and scooters and trail bikes and enduros and mopeds and mini-bikes and whatever. I'm not talking about safety-first (or even safety-second), law-abiding motorcycle and scooter, etc., enthusiasts, I'm talking about the fucking bone-to-the-heads who make it bad for everybody. From the Japanese-anime Akira crotch-rocket ones who go a kabillion miles an hour in packs, weaving in and out of lanes on the JFX, to the kids who roll down the street head-on into oncoming traffic and make wheelies and go on the sidewalk. Bone-fucking-heads. Plus, most of the time, no fucking helmet. So you go and split your melon on the street because you went to like, 2 o'clock, or 10-till 11 a.m., I dunno, whatever a really fucked-up wheelie is, and you meet the pavement with the back of your dome, with no helmet, and now it's up to me and my Obamacare to pay for this mess. We're all in this together, man, this is America, and you need to wear a fucking helmet. In Baltimore, you should maybe just wear one all the time, bike or no bike.
I know there is a movie coming out called the 12 O'Clock Boys, and I'm not saying I'm against the movie or a subculture of safe, lawful, and conscientious motor-biking, I'm saying the warm weather is here, and it's already all the time bad enough the way people drive 4-wheeled automobiles in this city, with the optional stopping at red lights and the automatic not-stopping on a red to make a right-hand turn even when there's lotsa green-light traffic, and the complete lack of understanding of how a "four-way" stop -signed intersection is supposed to work, or, heaven forfend, a yield sign, and the random double-parking with no emergency blinkers and the monumentally idiotic making of a left-turn signal to indicate preparing to come to a complete stop in order to commence the double-parking, with the left-turn blinker going, for fuck's sake, and of course errbody on the goddamn fucking cellphone through all this bullshit because it isn't illegal enough yet.
Can we please make the cellphoning and the texting-while-driving super-illegal and start taking people's cars away and crushing them immediately into metal cubes with the cellphone still in it? Plus, I wish all of you shitty, stupid, dangerous, illegal automobile operators would just all crash into each other, not so you would be hurt or killed or maimed, just enough so you would have no car and be forced to take the bus-or even worse, the Number 27 bus-and leave the rest of the good drivers alone on the mean streets (with bicycle lanes) of Baltimore. I am an excellent driver.
Anyway, so yeah, with all that going on with people driving their "cages" around-that's what motorcycle people call regular cars-I am doubleplus-also against people doing bonehead moves on their two-wheelers. I know the cops can't do much because they should have better things to do than use a whole police car to chase one kid on a trail bike, and to have people report on this shit would pretty much violate my dream of people not blabbering on their cellular telephony devices while operating a 2-ton locomotive. That's another thing motorcycle types call regular automobiles. Plus, they call the drivers nose-pickers, did you know that? Because when you drive a car and you're not talking on your goddamn fucking cellphone, you probably have a finger or two knuckle-deep in one or both of your noseholes. You see lotsa people digging at their nose in cars, man, but you really don't see too many people riding motorcycles picking their nose. I mean, maybe if you are really superior at motorcycling you could do it, but even then, you might have a glove on, so it would be super-complicated to get the glove off to get at whatever is up in there, you know?
I don't have a solution to why you are all worse drivers than I am, seriously. I can't tell people who may also be excellent drivers or motorcyclists or bicyclists or even pedestrians (who have the right of way, even when they drift like cattle out onto the middle of the street, you don't get to run them down just because they make you angry with their dumbassedness) what to do about all the horrible car-drivering and motorbikery, man, it's like, it doesn't pay to holler very much at anybody who is fucking up, because it can end up turning into some outta control Road Rage shit, and you shouldn't throw a fishnet or a lariat or some roofing nails at some marauding motorbike, because then what happens when the bike goes out of control and hits somebody on a skateboard or whatever?
And if you are on a bicycle using a cellphone and you routinely slide through traffic signals, you are going to be injured soon, and it will be your fault. I have no feelings about this. You're on your own anyway, I've experienced and witnessed both sides of the car-versus-bike thing, and even when the bicycle is "right," generally the bicycle loses, so if you go out on the street on a bike and get on your cellphone, wow, I just have no feeling, you know? I can't even process this. It's like, such a doom scenario, how did you get to this place, where you decided this would be, I can't say "safe," but not-unsafe? To take a hand off your bike-steering and then devote a portion of your brain cells and sensory input to some inconsequential telephone-crap? Seriously, what can you say to this? Where do I send the flowers?
But some jerk on a Segway? Hogging the sidewalk, going way too fast? Not stopping for anything? That's a clotheslining, I swear. No jury would convict me.