Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Statement Of Events

At approximately 6:20pm on Wednesday June 24th, I, Mr Fweng Ebola, of a decrepit and overpriced flat, was cycling west along some road.

It was a clear and sunny day. Trees continued to absorb carbon dioxide and the crippling indifference of a cruel world gnawed at my soul like beavers felling a dam as I got fatter and repelled anyone with a womb. The lights were red as I overtook a line of stationary traffic. In front of me, a female cyclist whose route was blocked by a pedestrian island had stopped. As the lights changed to green, I slowed to allow the cyclist into the road, taking up more of the road and holding back as I did so.

On doing this, a car driven by a CUNT overtook us close and at speed, due to the driver being a selfish retarded fuckbollock who would place a stranger's death at his own hand as less important than being a few seconds late for something. I yelled out in shock as I continued pedalling. The driver was now looking at me in his rear-view mirror to gauge if I'd been the yeller.

Regrettably, I made the mistake of jabbing a finger directly at him, invoking a furious red mist that clouded the driver's rat-like and beady little eyes. As he crossed over the junction, he'd slowed down behind traffic as I approached along an empty bus lane, tutting like a pensioner reading the Daily Mail. Before I passed the driver, he accelerated into the bus lane and came to a halt. Now rather worried, I overtook his car, keeping an eye on his door which I wasn't surprised to see being flung open full length so a Caucasian, shaven-headed and lobotomised ape could lunge at me. I weaved out of his way – just – and continued unabated, now rather perturbed that a maniac with a micropenis was trying to kill me.

About 15 seconds later, I became aware of a speeding engine approaching. Determined to make me stop so he could, I have to assume, beat me into a bloody, weeping pulp who wished as he cried red tears from swollen purple eyes that he'd kept up the kickboxing lessons, the driver overtook me a second time, pulled in sharply, and came to a screeching halt. This time, he ensured I had no chance to escape as his car was now only a metre or two ahead. I gripped my brakes but with no room for manoeuvre, I collided into the back of him with such force that my rear fucking wheel bucked and landed on the pavement while a jagged pedal cut my bare leg to ribbons.

I yelled out in shock and, looking up, saw two community officers run across the road to assist an unfortunate woman who had collapsed outside a tube station. I managed to catch the attention of one of them as I was now yelling and waving my hands like Leonardo Di Caprio in Titanic.

As the officer walked towards us, Cro-Magnon man must have realised that I was winning - for the first time in my lousy, motherfucking life, I. Was. Ahead, dammit!

So he drove off.

I gave the officer my details and reattached my chain, cycling home carefully as unidentified bits fell off. On arrival at my flat, I realised my back had twisted up a la John Merrick, the Elephant Man.

I would like to end by stating that the individual responsible has no business driving so much as a mobility scooter, as he clearly has no qualms about using one as a weapon. If it pleases the court, may I suggest he be hanged about the neck until dead, and his bloated cadaver repeatedly pummelled by me doing bunny hops on his twisted spine with a fucked-up bike.

Thank you.


jenn said...

Aside from the douche in the bag who caused colossal damage to you this is what I have to say. You mustmustmust write your book. Seriously. The writer in me, as I read this went in a spiteful, bitchy, pouty whisper, "Bastard." Which means I now loathe you because this post was frickin' brilliant. -mutters 'bastard" under breath once more-

sas said...

what a complete wanker.
driver obviously.
not you.
you're lovely.

Blue soup said...

It is posts like this that make me think "wanker" when I read you whinging on about not finding a woman. Now, look, I fully agree that it is shit and I whinge as bad as the rest of them(I have never claimed to not be a hypocrite), but you are a brilliant writer and this post is evidence alone of that.

Er,well, I am glad you are still alive. To whinge at us a little more. xxxx

Huw said...

Oh, that was you! Sorry mate!

Cheryl said...

Ditto what sas said, complete and total wanker. You can take comfort, at least, in two thoughts: 1. that anyone who can be set off so easily is not the happiest of people. Only a matter of time all that negativity he puts out comes back to bite him in the ass. 2. His remarkably anti social behavior has inspired yet another great blog post

Dandelion said...

Brilliant! (It's fiction, right?)

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Isn't this all just a neat metaphor for everything that's been happening to you recently? The bike is your love life. The ape who wanted to lunge at you is Linked In (which I hope you've managed to stay off of). The officer is the hope of new love.

Anonymous said...

He should be reported to the police for dangerous driving. Sussex police I know do follow up these reports (don't know about your local plods, though), twice now I've had the police call me back on incidents I've reported of dangerous driving.

livesbythewoods said...

Fucker! Did you get his number? Or at least a good description?

Lush said...

Wow, that dude sounds absolutely maniacal. And yeah, same as everyone else said, you're quite obviously really, really ridiculously good with words.

Coincidentally enough, I too was in a bike accident on Wednesday. And thanks to an asshole pedestrian, skirt-wearing season is further delayed by the fact that my left leg is fucking skinned; my current misery knows no bounds.

Anonymous said...

How did you continue cycling home if your wheel was "buckled"? I detect some exageration.

Homer said...

Cunt. Poor you.

Z said...

Ouch. Cro-Magnon man should be condemned to getting about by bicycle for the next six months and not being allowed to visit Norfolk. In Norfolk, drivers are terribly polite to cyclists. They don't race us to junctions or anything, but just wave us through and wait.

Emerald Flux said...

I agree with the comment about writing a book. I've been following your blog ever since you found my LJ (you responded to my post about the tube). Well, that journal is gone now, but I still keep up with reading yours because I find your writing style to be hilarious.

luna said...

Yeah did you give his number to the cops?
Murderer on the loose.

it has been a scary week:i've got a gash on my calf the length of a packet of fags and the assorted multicolour bruises too.

Cas said...

Seriously, no excuse for road rage, but as a biker, I can safely say you cyclists have a bloody death wish. Going through red lights, soundlessly going for the overtake/cutting up manoeuvre, failing to indicate where you're turning, no mirrors and no horn. No wonder you keep dying a painful death in our streets. As a driver and a biker, when, at the weekend, I take on the role of avid cyclist, I just naturally assume I'm invisible and bound to piss someone off. As a puny weakling, I make sure I don't start antagonising people on top of all that. Take it easy man and accept that as a cyclist you are despised. Cycling to work everyday? That's just crazy, don't do it, you will die, get something with an engine, as we would miss your inanities should you go splat under a tram.

Lady Wise said...

This horror story is precisely why I DO NOT cycle anywhere.

Especially not where I live, where I am too terrified and emotionally traumatised to sit near the front of the bus for having witnessed, several times too many, their drivers hurtling indiscriminately towards pedestrians with no inclination whatsoever to slow down. I dread to think what they would do to a lowly cyclist. You are a brave man, if rather unfortunate at times.

fwengebola said...

Jenn ~ Uh, it was? I thank you. Now I feel guilty to have got to 3.30pm on a Saturday having written bugger all. I shall begin after these replies.
SAS ~ God, thanks. *blushing emoticon thing*
I am just a wanker, not fully complete.
Bluey ~ Does anyone else get the hump when I get all awkward about accepting praise? But thankyouthankyouthankyou.
Huw ~ Yes, could you clarify your number plate please?
Cher ~ Oh crikey. Can't someone call me a tosser? Thank you too. And I hope he gets hit by a bike. Preferrably one powered by petrol.
Dand ~ I wish it was. Still got the scars.
UB ~ Interesting. Actually, it was fuckbook. More specifically, my commute home is my journey through life (which presumably makes my Large Northern Flatmate Death. The bastard in the car was every little thing that tries to trip me up along the way. The officer rushing to my aid (after I'd yelled to get his attention) is my (wrong gender) love life (because I've got an awful feeling he took the number down incorrectly, so that fits because it's yet another relationship failure.)
Anon ~ The cops phoned later that night, and the following day, I made an official report. I have a sinking feeling though. More on that as it develops.
LBTW ~ Well I got his number, or at least I thought I had. As described above, am in limbo at the moment.
Lush ~ Please, please, please call he an arsehat. I find it so much easier to beleive. (But thank you.) Sorry about your RTA. Take some solace in the fact that I was in shorts, so my bare leg got skinned.
Anon ~ Ah, touche Anon, but read again. I never wrote 'buckled.' In fact, that's an 'L' too many. And no, I didn't go back to edit that.
Home ~ Ubercunt. No biggie, cheers.
Z ~ Really? That sounds like nirvana, except one that's in Norfolk. If I was in charge, I'd take licences away from anyone proven to have caused an offence against a cyclist, and force them to travel everywhere on bike. Within 10 minutes, they'll have profound respect for cyclists.
EF ~ Ah, hello. It's youuuuu. Well keep your fingers crossed that I end up hospitalised soon as that should provoke a fair amount of vitriol.
Lune ~ The coppers are in the process of adding my paperwork to their backlog. Time will tell. You cycling too?
Cas ~ Cycling to work is brilliant. It's free, gets me home quicker, and there's none of that standing around waiting for trains on overcrowded sweattubes nonsense. But I personally go through reds (when very safe, but only on T jucntions) because it means you're not millimetres next to a line of metal vehicles desperate to get in front of you when the lights change. I'm soundless because I'm not attached to an engine. (You'd be amazed at the number of people who cross the road using only their ears.) I don't intentionally overtake/cut up, but progress through my journey as per conditions, and always indicate, even though the one-hand arm-stretch cycle is quite the challenge. I do turn my head in lieu of mirrors, and have a very loud yell
LW ~ But you must cycle. It's great fun (sometimes). Plus you get an interesting perspective on life. Like death.

daisyfae said...

i used to ride with a large, old-fashioned heavy bike chain. big ol' padlock on it. although cumbersome, i found comfort in knowing that it would double as an effective weapon against knuckle dragging cavemen, large slobbery dogs or whatever got in my way while cycling... score one for the good guys!

Ellie said...

It's a dog eat dog world out there.

My cycle has sat beneath my desk at work for the past three weeks (it's a folding kind) ... just can't find the motivation to ride it home.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Road rage against someone who isn't equally cocooned in the safety of the metal casing of a car is the last word in absolutely bastardish behaviour.

What an arsehat.

fwengebola said...

DF ~ That's a terribly good idea. You could swing it around a la Mad Max as you approached your targets; pedestrians, motorcyclists, small children.
Ellie ~ No, no, no, no, no! Ride it home! It's brilliant and fun! Just don't insult people who try and kill you.
PDEWYMO ~ Yes, it was a bit mean. That image of him lunging out to get me because I shouted at him does rank in my all time Top Ten Overreactions.

luna said...

No longer.
I sustained my injuries , er, at home, and hum, on the bus...

fwengebola said...

Genius. Don't get on a pushbike, then. You'll end up causing a thirty-vehicle pileup.