“Wear a Helmet!”


That’s what I always hear from concerned strangers as I ride by on my bike all through the city’s treacherous streets. That’s awfully considerate of them, but do I track them down into their bedrooms and yell “Wear a condom!”? Do I follow them into pickup bars and screech “Take off your wedding ring”? Do I chase them into McDonald’s and yell, “Order the salad, not the Filet-o-Fish”?

No, and I would hope for the same kind of urbane politeness. Besides, I already HAD a head injury, and it happened because I was hit by a rapidly backing-up truck as I was walking! Some time later, I was hit again by a car and went flying–once more while walking!

So shouldn’t YOU all wear helmets as you prance around the streets?

The truth is, whenever I’ve had biking accidents, I’ve never hit my actual noggin, only other stuff. Maybe I should wear leg pads and metal gloves? Yeah, that’s the ticket. In fact, if someone yelled at me, “Get your legs covered, asshole!” I’d have way more respect for them. If you really love me, you’ll start chanting that now.

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