Sir, Your Motorcycle Does Not Make You Look Badass

I would like to dedicate a blog post to my new least favorite thing ever: the motorcycles of the islands, and the idiots that drive them. I apologize, I have been boring recently, however, I promise an epic post tomorrow. But first, I must address that which is making me bonkers.

One of the many offenders.

Dear all men between the ages of 16-25 on Astypalaia:

I hate you and your stupid, loud, irritating motorcycles. I can here you from the opposite side of the island. Kindly walk, as your island is 2 cm long, or take a car. Or the bus. Or use a regular bicycle. Anything but your stupid motorcycle.

First of all, as a general rule, you do not look "cool" if your motorcycle is the size of a child's plastic tricycle. And you don't get bonus points for making your glorified unicycle louder than a concord jet taking off. And you don't appear suave and daring for passing me with less than a 2 inch buffer zone. In addition, the smell your exhaust puts out is revolting and shockingly pungent for such tiny engines. Finally, it is so not cool to ride around on your little pocket rocket in a neon speedo. So there. Your efforts do not impress me. Neither do your jiggly, hot-pink spandex-clad rear ends.

If you continue to irritate the ever living snot out of me, I will start carrying a large, pointy stick. When you pass me, I will jam the stick into your front wheel, and gleefully watch you roll down the giant hill of doom.

Sincerely,

Hannah (& the rest of the Bioarch Field School).

........
I feel so much better now!