Australian Ride to Work Day: you are hereby cordially invited to go fuck yourself.

Currently being in my 3rd week of riding to work daily, I'm sure you can imagine my sense of joy at learning that, on the 13th of October, there was to be a free breakfast at work for anyone who rode in on the day in question. On the off-chance you can't, well, take a look at this and work from there. I have never gotten over my student-days joy at free .... anything¹. A free breakfast for riding to work? A ha ha HA!!  I was going to do it anyway you fools!!!!!!!

My joy, however, was short-lived. Well, actually, it wasn't in the sense that I'd learned of this like 3 weeks ago. In the sense that this makes for a good, solid opening to a paragraph about how everything went sour ... and also in the sense that I could possibly have been even more delirious with joy, like, the night before or something .... we can all agree it was. You see, it was raining pretty heavily this morning. Finding myself suddenly thrust into the ranks of those whose decision to ride may actually be determined by the provision of a free breakfast, but being the complete out-and-out hard-arse you all know me to be, I bravely donned my Gore-Tex^TM and made my way to work through near² to impossible odds after only umming and ahing for around 20 minutes. Like people who went to 'Nam and stuff... I'm afraid I'm rather reluctant to talk about the horrors I then experienced on the way to work. I am prepared, however, to talk about the horrors that greeted me when I got there. You see...

There was no fucking breakfast left!

Well, O.K., so there was in the sense that there was some fruit and a little cereal lying around amidst people packing up and stuff. After stepping out of a much-needed (to wash all the mud and blood and shit off) shower, and arriving at 9:20 to an 8:30-9:30 breakfast, I expect a little more than a few hairy pieces of fruit and the dregs of the cereal, though, you bastards. I expect danishes. I expect coffee. I expect sausages, hash browns and young, nubile serving-folk looking to anoint my tired feet.

Congratulations 'National Ride to Work Day', you just earned a place on my hit-list.


¹Hmmm. Perhaps a disclaimer is in order here. Anyone now thinking to send my joy circuits into overload by offering me a free kick in the testicles is advised to stop being such a pedantic smart-arse.


²Assuming a rather broad definition of 'nearness'.....