When people leave comments on a this blog I get the option to moderate and after my statement that cycling needed Lance Armstrong I was sent several comments which were rather fruity and made exceptional use of prime raw Anglo-Saxon vernacular.
I don’t mind swearing, I don’t mind being sworn at what I do find loathsome is the gender based insults. Suggesting that I shut my fucking hole and make a sandwich isn’t an intelligent debating method and if you’re the kind of guy that says that shit, you’re a sexist ball sack and you’re part of the wider problem of sexism within cycling.
Calling me and ugly cunt who should get hit by a bus isn’t funny, it isn’t big and it isn’t clever and it exposes your wider view of women. Of your wives of your daughters, every woman on the planet has interacted with insecure little fuckers like you. You’re the kind of men that gets pissy when a your advances are rejected as your pride takes a dent as you feel your masculinity is undermined, you’re the kind of man that flounders in the modern world as women feel more empowered to achieve, you’re the kind of man that hates the shifting in society because life doesn’t match your expectations.
You’re the kind of men that disparage the women’s elite sport, you know those women that are good enough to make a career out of it, you insult the world’s best female riders but I would pitch any of the female peloton against you and you’d most probably lose and that would really dent your fragile eroding masculinity.
You see, you think telling me I’m an ugly cunt to undermine me hurts; it doesn’t because I don’t buy into that social bullshit that women are there to be your eye-candy. Calling my a fucking stupid dyke only hurts in the sense that I have two degrees and I’m far from stupid and my lesbianism really has no effect on anything other than that I have relationships with women. Perhaps you feel that I undermine your sexuality.
What does really annoy me though is that we are all members of the cycling fraternity, we don’t have club house or a secret masonic handshake but what all have is a passion that gets us up early and makes us ride. Yes, you may be faster than me, but you’re also fatter than me and I can see your moobs through your lycra and I would suggest investing in a training bra. We can all throw insults but instead of being that childish spiteful, judgemental and hateful perhaps it would be better if you put your tiny little pathetic man brain in gear before opening your cake hole.