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I Hate You, Big Red Pedal Tours, I Hate You In Your Stupid Face

Big Red Pedal Tours, when you cruise by in whatever part of town you are, do you wonder how it is that, in you, the worst office happy hour and the worst spin class have merged seamlessly? Do you reflect on what kind of groupthink has to be in effect for the ten people it takes to power one of these things, when real stats reveal that that those same ten people, in all likelihood, won't even be able to get it together to vote? "American Pie," Big Red Pedal Tours? Really? What is it you imagine that people who see you think, as you scream "WOO!" down residential streets, Big Red Pedal Tours? Do you think that they admire you? Big Red Pedal Tours, have you ever gotten confused and rode that clanging jitney of basic bitches straight into the Delaware River because for a minute, you thought you were Ride The Ducks? 

We do not expect answers, Big Red Pedal Tours, because frankly, you do not seem like "answers" people. If we were to be more kind, we could say that you do serve one purpose, at least: As you roll past us, we can gather our children close, and point to you and say, "That. That, my child. Don't be that."

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