Premier Inn Holiday Story

Holy shit right, the fire alarm went off last night at the Premier Inn where we're staying at 1 in the morning and we had to go outside in a fucking hurricane and the guddam hotel didn't burn down it was a false alarm. Before going outside I rushed to my two teenage son's room and one of the enormolunks was still in bed! We all went back inside after half an hour in the pissing rain and hellstorm and then then an hour and a half later the cocking alarm goes off again and NO ONE in the whole hotel gets up except for me like a effin chump that I am. Then it goes of a third time! I brought all my emergency gear and torches and penknives and stuff I was in my element.
Having a fucking AWESOME holiday, and it's FREE cos of Premier Inn's stupid good night sleep promise. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

MERRY CHRISTMAS DAY!

Stolen Poem.

Someone's stolen my pencil
Someone's stolen my pen
Justice will be swift
If I find who did the lift
Some bastard's stolen my pencil

Someone's stolen my ruler
Someone's stolen that too
A bloody vengeance I will serve
On whoever had the nerve
Some wanker's stolen my ruler

Someone's stolen my rubber
Someone's stolen...oh hold on there's a hole in the bottom of my pencil case.

By Person on a Bicycle aged 45 and some months and a few days and shit.

Snow Poem

In honour of today's weather, here is my ode to Snow:

Snow by Person on a Bicycle aged 44.6

When we get snow
I have to go slow
Because my bicycle has no plough
I will crawl like a snail
Big flappy flakes get in my eye
They come from somewhere in the sky
Don't ask me why
I am not a meteorologist that's why
I think it's something to do with a warm wet front meeting an area of cold air or something I'm not really sure don't quote me on that
You arsehat

The END.

Today's Angry Poem

DRIVER

Driver driver
You tried to run me over
You seem to think I'm just the same
As the Machopath in the middle of the lane
But I know how to behave on the road
I've eaten a copy of the Highway Code
You sit smugly in your smug four by four
Ferrying your smug western arse from smug door to door
Please don't turn me into a greasy pile of greasy gore
You pathetic scum sucking petrol company whore.

The End.

By Person on a Bicycle

The Cold, a poem.

Here's a Poem about the cold that I have written:

THE COLD by Person on a Bicycle, Aged 44 and a half.

Cold
Why are you so cold?
Why do I have to feel like a human icicle
When I'm pedalling my bicycle?
My thumbs feel like two frozen sausages
And my throat is in need of some lozenges
I feel so down
When you are
Around,
Cold
Although,
When someone smiles back at me and says "Cor, it's a bit Chilly"
I forget all about my shrunken, permafrost-riddled willy
And I feel happy to be alive
Then I skid on some ice and take a dive
And I am crushed by Jay who's just learnt to drive.

THE END.

Dog Poem

Poem to a dog:

Dog,
You are always trying to eat my wheels,
And snapping at my heels 
Have you ever wondered how that feels,
To be chased,
So one pedals in haste,
All over the placed,
And ends up crashing into a jogger called Sonia who is listening to Mumford & Sons on her mp3 player,
Causing me to delay her?

THE END

Angry Rant

Nicely balanced piece on the BBC Breakfast show this morning about how People on Bicycles are dying because they are riding themselves under vehicles. 
So effin angry I can hardly think. Every day, EVERY EFFIN DAY, someone almost kills me on my ride to work. I am just riding to work, obeying every road rule, being very considerate to every road user I come across, but this does nothing to protect me form people driving cars who see me as a cyclist, someone inconveniently in their way, someone not human with a family and a life and emotions, but something that an be hit with no consequences.
People driving have only their perspective of a situation that in no way risks their life, they calculate situations without factoring that an actual life is involved and at risk, mine.
Unless people change their twisted world view people on bicycles will continue to be killed over and over again, your father, your mother, your daughter, your son, your nephew, your niece, your neighbour, dead under the wheels of indifference.

Ambush

There was a tree across the bicycle path this morning, a perfect squirrel ambush sight, and right enough there were loads of the nut suckers raging amok, totally losing their shit, Percy the Park Keeper would have flipped his bleedin wig.

WORK LOAD

This morning I woke up at 5 and had breakfast then made a picture of chickens for my sister-in-law then made breakfast for everyone else then I put my one of my angry teenage boys' Xmas cards to his paper round clients into their envelopes then I helped the other teenage mope-a-bot clean his fish tank then I made everyone's lunches then I carried a toilet down stairs and put it in a car then I rode eight miles to work on my bicycle and now I've found out I'm not having a Christmas holiday due to deadlines at the beginning of January.

No wonder I just told the delivery driver a minute ago that his "van looks stupid and if you're not off my property in thirty seconds I'm respraying it"