To the motorcyclists of Colorado

I like your toy. It’s a good looking toy, for sure. I’ve got an affinity for expensive toys myself, although in my case it’s mostly guns. But your toy is far cooler than any of mine, as I’ll be the first to admit. None of my toys necessitate a special uniform, for one thing. And, hey, even though I think you look ridiculous, I can see the appeal.

But here’s the thing. You’ve chosen to ride a toy. And, because it’s a choice you made, I don’t owe you any special consideration at all. Not even a little bit. If you’re zipping in and out of lanes, pretty much ignoring all the rules of traffic, and I don’t notice your dumb ass, and you nearly get pasteboarded to my grill, that’s all your problem and none of my own.

In fact, I’m kind of for it. Because, see, you’re riding a fucking toy.

Sincerely yours,

Ben

p.s. That goes double for you bicyclists, too. Please get the fuck on the sidewalk if you can’t keep up with traffic.