• After many, many years of cycling in London's famous London, during which time the only me/motorised-vehicle collision was definitely my fault (overtaking a car over a speed bump going down Frognal in Hampstead on a blind corner), I can finally feel self-righteous after having been nudged up the arse by a taxi on the corner of Carey Street and Chancery Lane on Thursday evening. I stopped at the junction for another taxi (oh, the irony), he didn't. No harm done to either me or the bike, so I limited myself to pounding my fist on his bonnet in righteous rage and calling him a wanker. Happily, the people drinking outside the Knight's Templar seemed to be swayed by my persuasive powers of advocacy, and as a result Mr. Taxi Numpty drove away to the resounding chants of 'Wanker, Wanker'.

    At least, I think they were directed at him. Nah, pretty sure. Fairly sure, anyway. Then again...

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