Anyone else with me on giving a big ‘up yours’ to Sydney’s weather recently?
Just got new risers to fit this arvo and I’ll be able to test them for a whole ummm 2 metres before I hit the wall of my apartment!
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why aren’t you at work, ya lazy sod? i’ve still gotta ride home in this weather…
i know exactly what your saying! have gone for one ride in the last week, but thats not including trackstands in the lounge when i moved the couch for a bbq the other night.
it’s only water, just wear a jacket :roll:
Copped enough water in the face to save me cleaning myself for a year on the way to uni today.
…And then the realisation that theres a hole in my bedroom ceiling.
Fuck you, Sydney weather.
need a boncho (bike poncho) to keep the water of ma ma ma my chrome-a
Brisbane is copping a shitload right now. I have decided to leave the Corex at home today due to it having the incredibly rain-proof combination of a loose ball headset, bottom bracket and hubs. I took my shitty mountain bike commuter instead. Can’t wait to ride through every puddle on the way home 8-).
They reckon there’s going to be flash flooding in Brisbane tonight.
fixed
Can we just change this to a general ‘fuck you’ thread for things bike related?
I am fed-fucking-up with the weather too. The worst part is, you can’t abuse anyone for it because it’s not anyone’s fault. Abusing people, whilst it may make you appear an asshole, is very therapeutic. It also helps you deal with being abused yourself.
I am also fed up with the fact that I spent $255 on a racing license, and so far I haven’t been able to race because of weather, or because I’ve been lashed up to work at the last minute (being in the military I can’t exactly say no). Even training sessions on monday and wednesday nights I haven’t been able to go to. My fitness is fucked and I’m getting nowhere. This was my ticket out of the hood!
fuck road works… how long does it take to build a bridge? sunny and high 20’s in radelaide.
well in perth you ride about 2m before you burst into fucking flames, for me rain over heat any day, makes for funner skids 
Youse whingers gotta get some fenders, choose your wet weather gear wisely and learn to deal with inclement weather. Wet weather’s nothing … sub zero temperatures for months on end is a real pain and my time abroad has taught me that we are about as good as it gets weather wise.
i couldn’t give a fuck about the rain etc when riding to work, i just wish my work had a shower so i could wash all the road grime off before sitting at my desk all day. that would be nice…
I reckon QLD has overtaken us on the rain gauge battle. Looking pretty crazy up there in some parts.
I’m all for a big f-you thread, but I think every whinge should be tempered with something you like as well so as not to bring on bad karma.
in that case(noone likes bad karma), i love that i no longer live in perth and have to sit in a car for an hour to get to work. i fucking love the fact that i even have the option of riding my bike everywhere: rain, hail or shine 
rolly
just channel your inner Roger de Vlaeminck
Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.
Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English?
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin’ and dealin’ and schemin’. Go back where you fucking came from!
Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds!
Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn’t know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Imclone! Adelphia! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin’ parade in the city. And don’t even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermés scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You’re not fooling anybody, sweetheart!
Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don’t want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on!
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child’s pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you’re at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin Otisville, Jay!
Fuck Osama bin Laden, al-Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal, Irish ass!
Fuck Jacob Elinski, whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend’s ass.
Fuck Naturel Rivera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar. Sipping on club soda, selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place.
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan rcoh. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!
word.