Almost every time I hear about the good in theory policy idea of devolving more power to councils. I'm soon reminded that they are ran by numptys.

Vincent aint so good at this statistics lark.

Properly sent it on the commute.
Now I am sweaty.


Who let Richard Dawkins out of his box?

Won't be racist though. Bet he's got at least two black mates.

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In short. Just share the road. They are for everyone. We're all just trying to get somewhere even the people 'in your way'. Slow down and take it easy.

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Criticising someone for 'thinking they own the road' in an attempt to argue that you shouldn't have to share the road is as hypocritical as it gets.

And I can be damn sure that those that yell this nonsense at me are the ones that speed and park illegally every single day.

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First. A category of road user criticising another for 'thinking they own the road'... simply for using the road... is just wonky thinking on the face of it.

Secondly, have a look at every car you see idling. Every car you see with wheels on a pavement. Every car you see parked on double yellows. Have a look at the train of vehicles you'll get behind you if you drive inside the speed limit.

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Recent spike, probably random, of being told by drivers about how terrible cyclists are. Think they own the road, don't obey the rules etc.

The utter cognitive dissonance involved in this thinking is just mind-blowing to me.

Finally watched parasite yesterday, was good, but not as good for me as it is for others. Unsure I get all the hype, but I enjoyed it... unless it's down to a lot of people realising that non-english language films can be good. In which case, excellent.

The lives of others is on prime. Get it watched, it's one of the best films you're ever likely to see.

Was gonna wait until Adam Rutherford's book was out on paperback... But it doesn't seem like it can wait.

The Mrs booked a train last week for tomorrow morning. She has the ticket but the train journey no longer exists. No cancellation notice of any kind. It's just... Gone.

When Paul Caruana Galizia was six years-old, he came home from school to find his dog dead, its body laid across the doorstep. This is his first memory of intimidation directed ar his mother.

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