Is it time to start calling out bad cyclists?

^ might as well call em 'best of white man's blues album in the world EVER' I - VI

^^ Technically yes, however if you try to compare the mighty led zep to Simply Red, M-people or UB40, I will get angry, and you wouldn't like me when I get angry.

Simply red, UB40 and M-people. None are blues

remember people: white folks don't sing the blues - they cause the blues.

Since no one here is actually "Calling Out Bad Cyclists"

I think you'll find, with closer inspection, some people are.

BMMF, it's probably been lost in all the bleating...

I apologize to your goodself if you have been calling out said bad cyclists. Though I believe you are the exception that proves that most in this thread are just here to blow their own trumpet by providing stories of how everyone else who rides a bicycle is incompetent...

My mate matt. Been cycling for years, used to go on cycling holidays but he still hasn't been able to grasp how to signal when going to turn or stop. Also he hardly ever looks behind him (to pull out/turn/general times when you have to give a look behind). I do go on rides whith him but dammmm its nerve racking most of the time.

BMMF, it's probably been lost in all the bleating...

I apologize to your goodself if you have been calling out said bad cyclists. Though I believe you are the exception that proves that most in this thread are just here to blow their own trumpet by providing stories of how everyone else who rides a bicycle is incompetent...

I did fuck-up the otherday. Was going up a hill (locally) and struggling. (I HATE HILLS) And suddenly got a big bug in the face. Swerved into the road, luckily it was a country road, that was quiet. but still a car came right up my arse as i swerved and had to break. Like a oh shit moment i road to the kerb and fell off LOL I was wearing SPD's Which ive just started getting used to.

i feel lucky not to have been called out myself after the last couple of nights where i had to cane it home to watch the tdf highlights redlights kerbs queue jumping
sorry

BMMF, it's probably been lost in all the bleating...

I apologize to your goodself if you have been calling out said bad cyclists. Though I believe you are the exception that proves that most in this thread are just here to blow their own trumpet by providing stories of how everyone else who rides a bicycle is incompetent...

I dunno. It's a vague thread title. What does 'calling out' actually mean? My contribution was way back in the mists of time (post 1100, last one on previous page), and did have content which suggested I knew what I was doing, and the other cyclist didn't. I suppose I posted it here in the vague hope said rider lurks/posts on lfgss, and might take my advice into consideration from this point forwards. I'm sure plenty of other posts have essentially done the same thing, haven't they?

Oh yeah, that Julian is a fucking menace when the TdF is on telly. We should brand him with a suitably chastising mark.

I'd like to call out myself. Jumping lights and all that jazz...cunt.

I've been resisting, because it all feels a bit like telling tales, but this has been festering in my mind for the past few days, and it's time to share.

To the dude on the green bull-horned bike on the New Kings Road, when I say "That wasn't very bright was it?" after you undertake me and the girl in front who have both slowed for a bus (nearly making her come off) - don't take it as a personal affront and a cue to become aggressive and dummy to swerve into my line. I speak the truth.

I am not "on your side" simply because you ride a bike. If you endanger other cyclists, you are no friend of mine.

Now sod off through those red lights, bell-end.

My friend Skully has a funny story about 'calling out' bad cyclists. Though as with all of Skully's stories it is freighted with menace, rage and sudden violence.
Skully spent some time in the cycling paradise that is Copenhagen. I am not sure exactly why he was in Denmark but after his return I know his flat was, for a long time, filled to the rafters with loose bacon. The smell became quite intolerable and led to a memorable incident involving a pest control officer and a croquet mallet but that will have to wait for another time.
Anyway, as you might know by now, Skully is not a man who takes easily to rules or to conformity so the well laid out and strictly policed bike lanes of Copehagen were always going to present something of a challenge. This is, after all, a man who once inserted another man's topper in to a third man's horse after a disagreement about dress codes at Ascot. For a while Skully did as the Romans do and stuck to the prescribed routes and etiquette. However as the summer wore on and the stresses of cured-meat smuggling began to take their toll Skully found it harder and harder to stick to the straight and narrow.
One evening, after getting off the phone to a recalcitrent pig farmer in Jutland, he had had enough. He just wanted to ride, to be free, to feel the wind in his hair as he rode the wrong way up a one way street and threw insults at pedestrians. Just like the old days, just like in Blighty.
So off he set, comfortably upright on his trusty utility bike, his man-bag bouncing reassuringly in his basket, for all the world like EdScoble played by Jude Law in a loss making Hollywood rom-com. The tension, the anxiety and the irritable bowel syndrome started to ebb away with every pedal stroke. It was a beautiful summer's evening and Skully was in his element.
"Excuse me but you are not allowed to cycle on this road". The voice was polite, almost timorous, and belonged to a man Skully described as looking like an architect. Skully does not like architects. Looking like one (and I have never really got him to give me a precise description of what he considers an architect to look like but it involves rectangular glasses and sleeveless sweaters at a minimum) is probably the worst thing you can do if you want to get on his bad side.
A 'discussion' ensued. Skully defended his right to cycle wherever he wanted to with some vigour and his interlocutor was equally firm, though more polite, in his views. But a confrontation between Skully and a mild mannered Danish man who resembled an architect was only ever going to end one way.
I choose to take Skully at his word when he is telling one of his tales but even I doubt that it is possible to squeeze an entire person in to the front basket of a bicycle no matter how much give there is in wicker. Whatever the exact truth of the matter regarding the basket there can be no doubt that for nearly 2 hours the poor victim of Skully's pent up anger was ridden around Copenhagen against his will and without once making use of a cycle lane. For someone brought up on the ideal of traffic flow segregation this must have been a profoundly*** [B][I]traumatising ***[/B][/I]experience. By the end of the evening, as Skully put it, with his trademark cruel humour, the man was "a fucking basket case".
Looked at in the cold light of day this is really an appalling story but somehow Skully has a knack of transforming his brutal criminality in to narratives that can't help but make you smile. He really is a remarkable character.

remember people: white folks don't sing the blues - they cause the blues.

But, can blue men sing the whites?

I must admit I'm half tempted to walk back and forth across the zebra crossings in clerkenwell with a friend and a giant scaffold pole held between us, purely to ensure that some of the arrogant fucks who commute that way have to stop at a zebra once in their life.

Every day I see them flying through and missing people crossing by inches.

Most of all the thing that bugs me is if I stop, then I get some cunt nearly crashing into the back of me. The pedestrian starts to cross and some other cunt then flies past on my right nearly knocking said pedestrian over.

Drives me up the fucking wall

Today the crossing from Hyde Park to Wellington Arch was terrifying.

The lights were red for the cyclists but the moment one cyclist started to move 4 lemmings from either side set off, straight into a 3 lane roundabout of moving traffic.

You utter fucking vacuous cunts. Laughing and giggling after cars have had to slam on the brakes to avoid turning you into idiot paste just shows how stupid you are.

Did I call them out and point out that they were retarded cunts?

is led zeppelin white mans blues? (albums I-IV)
just askin like.

I think you're safe.

We're talking stuff like later Eric Clapton and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

These men who listen to this shit are "Blues Lawyers", also known in the US as "Tone Attorneys".

just driven to and from euston station to pick up the mrs. the amount of cyclists bombing about with no fucking lights was astounding. came within a gnats nut hair of t-boning some stealthed up fixxxeh skidonker at horse guards parade who proceeded to give me the 'faaacking caaahnt' treatment. luckily for you i saw you at the last second and threw down the anchors, thereby preventing you from becoming street pizza and really ruining my night. if you're on here and you nearly got totaled by a silver honda civic tonight, you owe me your fucking miserable life. go buy some lights you cheap cock, you're invisible out there.

I actually saw a police jumping red light once when all other cyclists stopped at the red light, obviously. As soon as he jumped he realized he was the only one and he stopped and looked back looking extremely confused. I bet he was thinking why didn't nobody jump? I was walking pass and sooooo tempted to go up to him and ask him to give himself a ticket for that.

By the way, did anybody see any bike police in walworth / camberwell area yesterday afternoon? Were they on a mission or something to catch cyclists jumping red light / cycling on pavements etc etc? I saw like 4 and a guy cycling on the pavement with flipfop and 4 tesco bags on his handlebars got caught.

just driven to and from euston station to pick up the mrs. the amount of cyclists bombing about with no fucking lights was astounding. came within a gnats nut hair of t-boning some stealthed up fixxxeh skidonker at horse guards parade who proceeded to give me the 'faaacking caaahnt' treatment. luckily for you i saw you at the last second and threw down the anchors, thereby preventing you from becoming street pizza and really ruining my night. if you're on here and you nearly got totaled by a silver honda civic tonight, you owe me your fucking miserable life. go buy some lights you cheap cock, you're invisible out there.

Police should be giving tickets out for this, not just rlj. Riders without lights at night do not understand that they are completely invisible to drivers.

that would require old bill hanging about street corners after hours. you'd miss 'come dine with me'.

About 12 last night, I stopped at the lights on the northbound side of Angel crossroads and a suited barclays bike went through the red, which had been so for a good 5 seconds, and cut up a right turning southbound car. Actually played chicken with the driver who can't have thought he'd do that.

He didn't even try to avoid the car, just went on a Kamikaze run

Pinstripe invincibility cloak

I've seen a few people cruise casually through intersections without a single glance at the lights or head check for cross traffic. It's totally surreal.