|All that jazz...fingers.|
I was driving in Santa Monica, and some guy on a bright pink bike was riding outside the bike lane (i.e. - in my fucking way despite the existence of an area delineated specifically for him), so I honked. Obviously. He got all pissed off, because, despite its ubiquity, somehow, no one is yet equipped to comprehend the mechanics of anger, and yelled, "Fag hater!"
First of all, "fag hater?" Awesome. On multiple levels.
*Second, I pulled to the side of the road, impeding his forward progress, rolled down my window, and replied, "Dude, I don't care if you're riding a rainbow-colored bike where the seat is a giant black dildo that has to be inserted into your rectal cavity while you sing Liza Minnelli and wear a feather boa in order for the pedals to work...stay in the fucking bike lane or deal with getting honked at."
*This last portion of the story may represent what I was THINKING, and WOULD HAVE said, had I had the time/patience to actually pull over and confront this guy. But you can bet...Jerk Store woulda' smoked that guy!!!
Do yourself a favor; watch this. They disabled the embedding feature, so you have to just click on the YouTube link. Don't be lazy. You're welcome (video): http://youtu.be/dIf2ZhFeEmI