I, Anonymous 

Hell on Wheels

You're probably wondering what happened to your car. I'll tell you. You made the mistake of thinking you could get away with running me down on my bike while on your way to some Milwaukie drive-thru. You seem to have forgotten that cars have LICENSE PLATES, making it really fucking easy to find you. I'm not violent, but I have to say that you were definitely the last straw. I ride a bike everywhere and, instead of calmly passing me on the road or yielding when I have right of way, giant human turds like you seem hell-bent on trying to "teach me a lesson" periodically. What is your problem? I ride so that I am visible and easy to pass. Maybe it's because I'm lean and muscular and you're... well... not. Think carefully about "lessons" as realization creeps through your guts. Remember: Cars are no faster than the information attached to them. One phone call and I had your address, and by 3 am your car was covered with garbage. Try chewing on THAT instead of a Big Mac for a while.—Anonymous

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To submit your own rant, rave or confession, email anonymous@portlandmercury.com


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