There is not a madder bunch of kamikaze dropkicks than cyclists who think they are God’s gift to the urban snarl and crawl. The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea, and the driver homeward plods his weary way, and leaves the world to darkness and to me while these scrawny lycra looneys duck and weave amongst us in the ineffable drag to reach our door but plodding legislators give all to unregistered riders and cycles whilst we poor bastards have our arses taxed off by police and polly alike. In yer old tin hat Karl Stefanovic, you’re a nose pick!
Karl Stefanovic is another know-all know-nuttin who’s tryin to tell the Australian people what their national day should be, he’s a jerk from way back; a jumped up dropkick. Australia Day 26 January forever.