Except in Norway you'd have to translate that one to Russian or something. Even the "G-dda-n bast--d mutt" would understand that one in Norwegian.
Half-marathon over. Sabbatical year over. It's back to "sacking shirt and oat cakes" as they say here.
My brother swears in some made-up language that sounds like a cross between German and Southern Hick. The point is clearly made, without teaching kids bad words.
The side effect is that I start giggling, which just ruins the atmosphere.![]()
Idiot drivers that pull out in front of you don't reserve this trick for cyclists. I also drive a motorhome (read BUS). Cars persist in pulling out in front of me. And I am clearly visible and large and dangerous. That apparently doesn't give them a twinge. I am afraid to hit the air horn (BIG and LOUD: sounds like a Semi), because then they will stop dead in the way and I will hit them.
You can't win.![]()