Mr Cyclist 2017

Move over Muslims, Gays and Aboriginals, there is a new oppressed minority in town: the road cyclist.

By day, Terry is a mild mannered physiotherapist that lives on a plant based diet. But by peak commute times Terry is the Cycle-nator 2000. Armed with a GoPro and the suppressed rage of a school shooter playing Duck Hunt with a faulty Nintendo pistol, Terry is waging war on aggressive drivers.

No longer will he be bullied into Government provided bike paths. No longer will he stick left to allow a safe overpass. This is 2017 and he isn’t going to sit behind the back of the fucking bus, motherfucker.

The Rosa Parks of mild life crises has one natural predator: the Ute driver. The kind of man that has escalated his irritation of cyclists into full blown homicidal hatred. The kind of man to kick a Quokka and laugh like an locally anaesthetised Forrest Gump getting a root canal.

Terry leaves his practice and is riding home. An old boy leaning forward in his Corolla squinting like a confused Jackie Chan in an Amsterdam coffee shop comes within 1.5m of his bike. The red mist of lycra-mooseknuckling comes over him, “OI WATCH IT SHIT FOR BRAINS”.

Terry is satisfied in giving this driver an official verbal warning. He continues in the middle of the left lane on Mounts Bay Road. Like the theme music to Jaws, Terry hears the ominous bass of Aussie Hip Hop coming up behind him. Like a surfer having her period, Terry knows he is a sitting duck.

A HiLux complete with Aussie flags still attached accelerates and overtakes Terry coming within 1.2m of Terry’s bike. Terry pumps himself up like Lance Armstrong’s veins and accelerates to meet the driver at the lights.

He pulls up beside the HiLux driver, momentarily turns off his GoPro and then boots the side mirror clean off. GoPro back on, he dismounts and confronts the driver “YOU TRYING TO KILL ME CUNT?”

The driver is perplexed, “Mate I was nowhere near you, ride on the fucking bike path you are holding up traffic”. Terry feels the rage of a thirsty African at an out-of-service coloured drinking fountain and goes Apartheid on his arse:


Unlucky for Terry, the HiLux driver is fresh off his latest win at the Gate after the Green Mundine fight, “I’m gonna make your dick piss registration fees mate”. What follows is two grown men punching on over the spilt milk of petty cuntery.

Later that night, Terry cherry picks the best footage for his narrative and uploads it to Facebook. The oppression of his people continues. Spare a dollar for Cunt Vision and feed Terry’s ego for another day.

6 Readers Comments:

  • Anonymous says:
    April 20, 2017 at 8:51 PM


    This will stir up a few ego trips.

  • Archie Hyde says:
    April 21, 2017 at 12:19 AM

    A full on anthropological observation of third millennium homid on a bicycle, expand it to a thesis and you will be awarded a doctorate BTT, good work 9.9999/10 for this one 🤣🤡😝

  • Unknown says:
    April 21, 2017 at 2:41 AM

    Sounds like Durian the dick rider

  • kev hogan says:
    April 21, 2017 at 3:53 AM

    Had to wait at the stock road lights for a truck with a house on it for three light changes. Still quicker than a cyclist on the road with a Honda Civic trying to overtake it.

  • two-wheeler says:
    April 21, 2017 at 7:34 AM

    As a cyclist, gotta hand it it you. Beautifully captured. These fucktards are as good for motorists and cyclists as a flesh eating disease.

  • Anonymous says:
    April 21, 2017 at 5:45 PM

    But really, as comedy, is it any good for anything? It's not really making a point, or making people think, or pointing out absurdity (well, not a target that's smaller than an airport hanger door, anyway) it's just laughing at appearances, which isn't comedy, it's schoolyard taunting.
    4/10, try again.

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