Today after being closed passed to the point the wing mirror brushed my handlebars going through a restriction on the road; and yeah I may have flicked the bird.
Look captain Gammon, given I've just watched you take almost 5 minutes to get out of your car to remonstrate with me (and I did just think about riding off), what do you think will happen if you attempt to do the things you suggest you might to teach me a lesson. I'm younger, fitter, and don't get out of breath standing up, plus I'm armed with a whopping kryptonite new york lock which will if I desire it introduce your teeth to the pavement without you. Then having stopped you from attacking me your precious car keys would be heading off for a holiday down the nearest drain cover, obviously I would have to turn off the shitty car with one bald tyre you've left running.
Thankfully given you had to have a little rest from talking too much, I told you to go fuck yourself and rode off. Flooring your car in first was funny though, it still sounded shit.
I fucking hate shitty gammon drivers.
D.