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This Is A Guest Post By Uncle Smitty.

My daughter finally outgrew her first bike and graduated to a pretty nice one without any strangely erotic stupid Disney princesses plastered all over it. And after forking over a few hundred on that, I had another expense – a goddamned helmet.

I’m fairly sure she could either use her arms to cushion the fall or just tuck into a little ball and roll into the ditch like I did as a kid, but the state of Virginia disagrees.

On the off-chance I actually get off my fat ass and join her on a ride, I certainly won’t be buying a helmet for myself, and the other thing you won’t find in my shopping cart is a metrosexual biking outfit.

Who invented these things and what is their purpose? Seriously, if the point of riding a bike in the first place is to lose weight and get in shape, why be aerodynamic? Wouldn’t drag help burn more calories?

If you want to shed some unsightly flab, seems like a winter coat, Cosby sweater and corduroy pants would be the better choice.

I blame that single-testicled prick Lance Armstrong for this because before he “won” all those victories in the Tour de France, not once did I see a straight man wear a skin-tight, multicolored unitard in public. Somehow that cancer-riddled fuck managed to inspire white men with low testosterone everywhere to pursue the lamest form of exercise on the planet and dress like a Lycra Queen while doing it.

And while we’re on the subject, there are only a handful of reasons an adult should ever ride their bike on the highway in the first place. So unless you’re homeless, a bike messenger or had your license suspended for too many DUIs, get the fuck off the road.

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