I used to be a courier. I've got a few.
I knew a few guys who had a nail (minus the head) in the outside sole of their shoe. If cars did silly things they would get 'spooked' and 'accidentally' kick the car. The nail made sure it was expensive.

A quick kick while swerving from a suddenly opened car door usually does enough damage to the inside/outside finish to ensure that they remember not to do that again.

Guy at my company was very good at martial arts and knew how to throw himself. When a car cut him up he'd throw himself over the bonnet in a spectacular 'crash'.

A kind elderly gentleman once kicked in my rear wheel as he took offense to me cycling on the pavement (for about 10m) to make a delivery. Luckily he was old and didn't manage to do much damage.

A nice man who knocked me of his car came round to angrily ask me if I had touched his car or done damage. Twunt hit ME! Not the other way around.

Twunt who clipped me with his wing mirror told me I should be cycling on the edge of the road. Fair enough but it was January in Sweden and there was about 30cm of snow and ice there.

Stoped a lady who immediately released a torrent of abuse about how I shouldn't talk or judge her as we couriers cycle like a bunch of maniacs. I had only stopped her to let her know that the power lead to her engine heater was hanging out from under her bonnet and dragging along the road behind her.

Twats who think that you crash your bike for the hell of it and shout at you to move while you're concussed/confused/bleeding in the middle of the road (The disembodied voice talking to me wasn't God. It was my boss on the ComRadio).

Drag racing sports cars (a desent cyclist can out accelerate almost anything except motorcycles in city traffic) and then having the cunts overtake with literally a couple of inches of clearance.

Overtaking said cars and then cycling slowly in the middle of the road to block them.

Never try to steal a couriers bike. Especially not if you're in a small-ish city (Gothenburg, Sweden). They have radios. Withing 5 min EVERY courier in the city will know. Withing half an hour the guy had been spotted and had 3 couriers chasing him. Police were actually useful for once.

Using a pressure horn as a bicycle bell. Never seen stupid pedestrians move so fast.

Stupid pedestrians. All of them everywhere.

Words can not describe my fury at people who walk out into the road without looking. Oxford Street is a prime example and has to be avoided 5 months before and at least 2 months after Christmas. What's more is they have the nerve to be angry at me when the screech of tires scares them. GO FUCK YOURSELVES!

There are cyclists out there who are very, VERY good and for them riding aggressively is safer than riding defensively. Don't shout at me when I'm riding in the middle of a lane in central London. I'm doing 30mph and there is no need for you to overtake, beep your horn, flash your lights or shout at me. If you do that, I'll ride slower.

Speaking of London, Mr. Livingston: You're doing a proper bang up job, BUT:
What the hell is going on with the cycle lanes? Sometimes they stop. Abruptly. On the pavement. Am I suddenly allowed to cycle on the sidewalk? Should I cut straight into traffic? What?
Wandsworth bridge and 9 elms lane (to name a few) have a nice cycle path. WITH FUCKING LAMP POSTS IN THEM! I realize that it may be necessary, but is it then clever to paint them in mat-black rough paint? Nothing reflective at all? Seriously, fucking think!

Cycle lanes that perfectly follow parked cars, sandwiching you between the parked cars and the traffic, just wide enough to be perfectly blocked by an opened car door?
Seriously, fucking think!

Mr. Livingston, I think you're wonderful, but come out cycling some day and I'll show you all the things that are wrong.

I'll add some more as and when I remember.

You did ask. This is years of repent and anger being released.
(Squash, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:55, Reply)

I do sometimes get a little worried
By the missus, you know. Now she's a Geordie lass, and I wouldn't mess with her - but when she turns to me, having been tailgated and verbally abused by some retard and says that she'd like to follow them home and slash their pretty little faces I know that that has transcended rage and emerged into some incandescent new world of hatred, violence and pain.

Talk about rage.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:46, Reply)

Paris (2)
Totally agree JTW - had to drive round the Arc de Triomphe about half a dozen times inching my way towards my desired exit.

Almost soiled myself.
(Compulsive1 Hello is that the Police ?, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:45, Reply)

There's a baseball diamond over there
Captain Hood-Butters story reminded me of this. It's even got a BMW driver in it...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=_izd39hq198

Appologies for length of clip
(Gomi No Sensei, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:44, Reply)

The School Run
The f**king school run. Millions of these stupid, witless middle-class women driving Volvo estates, BMW's, 4x4's, Sherman tanks, or whatever else their dickless commuter husbands bought but can't drive themselves because they're in the City behind a desk, pushing paper from one place to another while leering up secretaries' skirts and thinking they're really important, and so their retarded, pasty wives drive each other's spoiled, smelly children to school and park all over the road at bizarre angles like some kind of twisted performance art project, and as for other drivers who might like to use the road, park in their own driveways etc. etc., they just treat them as if they weren't there, like a turd at a dinner party.

It will serve them right when all their precious little kiddies end up on drugs.

Aaagh. AAAAAAAAAGGGHHH.
(><(((">, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:43, Reply)

Paris
I've driven in central Paris - It's the most scared I've ever been in a car - it's positively Darwinian, noone lets you out and if you hesitate everything bad happens to you.

Never again.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:30, Reply)

As a BMW driver, I am always being picked on.

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Everyone assumes that if you drive a Beemer, especially a big fuck off M series one, you are too fast, dangerous, rude and obnoctious. Well I'm here on behalf of BMW drivers to put this right.

I did, once accidentally cut in front of a sales rep in a Mondeo while I was listening to "I'm Sorry, I haven't A Clue", on Radio 4. I was laughing like an idiot, and as soon as I had realised my error, I put my hand up as a way of gesturing an apollogy to the other driver. Unfortunately, he must have thought I had given him the finger and was laughing at him. He followed me for a few miles out into the Cambridgeshire Fens and had now drawn closer to me, just a few inches from my rear bumper flashing his headlights and sounding his horn. I flicked my break lights a couple of times and watched his bonnet dip and him dropping back, which must have pissed him off even more. Eventually he pulled alongside me at a junction and signaled me to open my window, which I did. He then began a torrent of abuse using the words 'fucking' and 'cunt' several times in every phrase. Fair enough I though, let him have his rant, after all, I hate rude drivers and often growl at twats who cut me up. After he had had his say, I actually apologised to him, but this made no difference at all. By now, he was becomming a little tiresome and I turned to him, and by now I was getting a tad angry too. I looked at him and shouted, "Look you twat, I've apologised, now it that's not good enough for you, you can fuck off". With this I closed my window and moved away but he wanted more and began to follow me. I drove a few miles with this bloke glued to my rear bumper, with the driver still popping veins in his neck, gesturing at me with fists, one finger, two fingers, and I could see him almost bouncing out of his seat, still very very angry.

After a couple of miles, in the middle of nowhere, I had enough. I had tried to say sorry, I put my hands up and recognised my mistake, but this bloke was furious and wanted blood. A few miles on I could take no more of this and abruptly stopped. He pulled up behind me and we both leapt out of our cars and another heated arguement began, only this time face to face, then he decided he was going to hit me and sure enough he took a swing at me. I blocked the punch and was now holding him, face down on the road trying to get him to calm down, but he wouldn't have any of it. I warned him again and again but he continued to shout abuse and threats at me so eventually I had to let him go. He spung to his feet and again, tried to land a punch. Again I blocked it and this time he ended up going arse first into the mud which made him even worse. He was now almost crying with rage and again tried to attack me. I had no alternative and had to deck him. I put him back in his car, let down one of his tyres and drove off. Wasn't his day really, was it?
_{Now hover your cursor over the text for a way to make money.}
( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:29, Reply)

Mr/Mrs/Sir/Dr/Ms Miggins
I like to personalise those that I'm yelling at - Mr/Mrs Miggins is the term I use. You know the type - Rover 75, driving at 40 on a big open road - I find it helps to abuse them (usually quietly to myself) by giving them a name.

No idea how I came up with it, but now my family and mates all use the term.

Mr Miggins in his Rover 75, etc.
Mrs Miggins in her Micra
Sir/Sgt Major Miggins in his big Jag

You get the idea

Unless it's a dodgy 1.0 Corsa* with big alloys, exhuast, etc - I call those dickwads "Rednecks". Let's be honest, it's just noise.

I usually keep the abuse quiet and I don't yell at cars, etc - more stories of those few occasions later!

*Replace Corsa with Clio, Nova, Fiesta, etc
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:24, Reply)

Does car park rage count ?
Supermarket car parks - the number of arseholes parking on Parent & Child and Disabled spaces who are quite clearly either without sprog or perfectly able bodied make me seethe.

I'll sometimes wait in the car for Mrs Compulsive to do the odd quick shop whilst I behave like Tourettes-Boy on acid, swearing like buggery at 4x4 owners and BMW drivers who park where they like.

This coupled with an extreme range of animated arm and body gestures from the confines of our car, will often see Mrs C return to our now steamy-windowed motor thinking that I've just partaken in some Tesco Value Dogging session.

Do these people not want to follow rules ? It'll be complete and utter anarchy soon.

Today...parking in disabled spaces, tomorrow.....taking up two spaces to park.

I may have to lie down now.
(Compulsive1 Hello is that the Police ?, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:24, Reply)

Merc Drivers
No, this may upset a few, but I don't like Merc drivers. This is becuase they tend to be driven by doddering old fools who are, well, doddering and stupid.

A few months ago, I was at a crossing - you know, the ones where a pedestrian waits to cross, cars stop and everyone's safe and happy.

I was waiting to cross and I was with my son in his pushchair. Look right and Mrs Woman had nicely stopped and smiled, so I thought I'd wait a sec as bloke coming from the left in a Merc (clearly NOT doing the posted 30 limit). Mr Old doddering arse moron dick cheese sails across the crossing. At speed. Didn't even look. Scared the beejesus outta me.

Woman looked freaked out by this and I stood borederline terrified by this and crossed - the next car actually did stop.

So if you have a Merc - it doesn't give you licence to run people down at crossings - You need a BMW for that one.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:19, Reply)

A4 letter, word.
Two days after having my nippy new car stolen, I was wandering down Feeder Road in Bristol on the way to work. At the end, there's a long line of traffic queued up to a T-junction with the A4.

Donkey Chav, with Mindy in the passenger seat thinks "sod this" and pulls out into the oncoming lane and floors it, racing ahead of the 10 cars ahead of him. Handbrakes at the junction and tools off up the road.

There was enough of a pause for me to think "I bet that's the fucker who took my motor" before I hear a siren start and the police car which was waiting at the lights round the corner sets off in Hot Pursuit.

Laugh? Oh my goodness, yes.
(csdaveuk, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:14, Reply)

Soiled pants
As I drove through the town centre one day, a car full of baseball-capped chavs started to to tailgate me. With their troglodytic intelligence, they thought it hilarious to stick to the back of my car, knowing that I couldn't accelerate away in heavy traffic.

So just before I turned off, I turned all the lights on. Mistaking this for my brake lights, they screeched to a halt and stalled in the middle of the traffic amidst a cacophony of horns.

I cheerily waved them the finger as I turned, and hoped their ludicrous tracksuits were full of shite. Cnuts.
(frankspencer, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:04, Reply)

Impatient lady drivers
Give me the horn.

Sorry.

Once a man in a van made rude gestures at me for sticking to the speed limit. So I noted the number writ large across his vehicle, drove home, and rang his boss, telling him I would tell everyone I know never to hire builder's equipment from their company.

I wish I'd been a builder.
(Fat Bear is adjusting your breasts on, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:01, Reply)

Reciprocal Rage
Two lanes filter into one, everybody plays nicely, except a ginger-haired moron in his body kitted, spotlighted Escort, who tries to force me over, missing me by nothing much.

I’m not one for being bullied, so didn’t give way, and he had to, as his lane was ending, and the traffic island wasn’t going anywhere.

So now I’ve got him behind me, bright red with rage, swearing, hooting etc etc.
We get to a set of red lights, where he shouts a bit more and then proceeds to bump into my car deliberately.

My turn to get angry. Now my car was an elderly, but souped-up Jaguar XJS, which has the attributes of being both very heavy and very fast. So I let the lights go to green, didn’t move, (which didn’t calm him down much), let them go to amber, threw the car into reverse. Heard his spotlights go tinkling onto the tarmac, and left the scene as quickly as all 12 cylinders would permit, leaving him stuck at the red lights.
I felt much better, not so sure about him though.
(BeatsWork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 11:00, Reply)

Road Rage on my behalf..
Was travelling through the in good old London, this time on my Triumph, and noticed a very big Rasta chap in his BMW M5 pacing me.

I gave him a nod, made off quickly-ish. Got stopped by lights, this happened a couple of times, when we arrived at the Elephant and Castle roundabout, and I got severely cut up by a white van man (as in nearly off the bike).

I was a bit cross, but it's not that unusual to be honest, but Mr big Rasta chap was f-ing furious, jumps out of his car, and gives this van driver the most amazing bollocking I have ever seen. I was amazed, and I want Mr Rasta man to be my big brother, he’s much better at road rage than I could ever be.
(BeatsWork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:59, Reply)

Car control

Was driving along the dual carriageway on the Croydon overpass, moved into the right hand lane, as I was turning right shortly at the roundabout at the end of that stretch.
Bright spark drives right up, and I mean right up my bumper, which was a bit keen as I was already doing 80 in a 60..
Anyway, he was flashing his lights and giving me some unhelpful gestures, so I touched my brakes to get him to drop back.
He panicked, hit his brakes and 360’d his car. Made me giggle..
(BeatsWork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:58, Reply)

mickturate.....
You've just reminded me of a cnut person I used to work with, who cut someone on a motorbike up on his way to work, then used excessive gestures afterwards.

The guy on the motorbike turned out to be his new line manager.....let's just say his underling wasnt employed much longer and got all the shittiest jobs assigned to him.....
(LargeDoner, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:57, Reply)

Rage is best served cold (and sticky)
Drove past the last space in the local car park, so I could reverse into it, when a very large knobber drove into it, and then gave me the finger.

I wonder if he used the same finger to remove the note I copiously super glued onto his windscreen telling him what a twunt he was..
(BeatsWork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:56, Reply)

Policeman's Rage.....
I live and work in North Wales, and my local chief constable is Richard Brunstrom, the guy who said "Speeding by just 1 mph is like taking heroin". A few months ago, to dodge doing police work, he started up a blog. I have a blog too, where one of my posts I described how I couldn't get served in my local because of him. I was less than complimentary about him.

Anyway, somehow he found my blog (it's not hard, google "colwyn bay blog" and I'm there), and he sent me a sternly worded e-mail on how I'm an "ungreatful idiot for the excemplimary work the North Wales Police" and "by promoting speeding, I'm worse than actual speeders"

I showed this to my mate who works for the Old Bill, he said it was the funniest thing he's ever seen.
(rhyswynne - on every social network mullarkey known to man, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:56, Reply)

Road rage, it's always the quiet ones..
Two roads in a pub bragging about how hard they were..

The M1 says “I’m dead hard me, the oldest motorway of ‘em all”.

The M25, not to be outdone, says “I’m the toughest of all, and handle more cars than any other motorway”.

Just then, a tiny little red lane walks in, and the M25 runs off and hides in the toilet for 15 minutes, until the lane has left.

The M1 is amused, and says “I thought you were toughest?”

The M25 replies “Well, yeah..but that ones a total cycle-path!”
(BeatsWork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:56, Reply)

It's not white vans you have to watch out for
Driving our 2CV somewhere near the speed limit through a small town in France a local behind us in a Peugeot decided that 2CVs are slow so he just had to overtake. The traffic-calming meant he couldn't get past for a while so he got closer and more agitated all the time. Eventually the road widened just enough for him to squeeze by with a lurid swerve and a screech of tyres. As he horsed off into the distance we were passed again. This time it was the Gendarmerie van which had been behind us all the time . . .
My how we laughed.
(The Jannie, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:53, Reply)

This annoys me, and I can't drive
You stop at a crossing, and it changes from red to flashing amber. People run to catch the crossing, and then, when they're on the crossing...they walk!
(rhyswynne - on every social network mullarkey known to man, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:51, Reply)

now that i've made my admission of violence...
middle of london: BMW, now there's a set up, eh?
usual story of SMIDSY, mr. bmw, smart suit, no indication he's heading my way pulls out on a T junction. I manage to stop my bike and to express my dismay, nay, chagrin, at being forced to stop in an ungainly manner, I beep my horn. Mr. BMW gets out of car, causing a jam, then tells me what he could my with my horn and that possibly itwas all my fault for riding a piece of shit motorcycle. so i fucked off into the traffic and left him there.
cue 2 hrs later: i'm there on an interview panel (and no i'm not making this up) in steps Mr BMW, (& who of course does not recognise me minus piece of shit bike and full face helmet)
So says I, can you give us an instance of your negotiation, people handling skills? can you tell us ofa situation that didn't go well? and he trots out the usual BS...
I think he twigged tho' when i outlined scenario not dissimilar to that above and asked how he might handle the criticism of a bike or car beeping him?
he didn't get the job and i now know where the twunt lives....
BTW: I've still got the piece of shit bike AND a good job.
(mickturate if i could be arsed i'd be bored, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:50, Reply)

frankspencer
Don't forget,

11. It's perfectly fine to drive down the middle of the road. It soesn't matter if (when) somebody does the same coming the opposite direction.
( brooza wonders how long a sig can be and if this will fit, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:46, Reply)

Baby on Board
Those stickers fill with a burning rage.

What do they mean? don't ram me I've got a baby?

Please make allowances for the fact that I'm a shit driver because I'm a new mother?

WHen I finish my time machine the inventor of those signs is the first person I'm bumping off....
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:44, Reply)

Taxi incident
Being driven home in a taxi one night after many pints. 3 mates in the back and I'm in the front. Having a chat with them in the back not really paying attention when suddenly we brake hard. I look up (or round...) and we've hit the anchors because another taxi has pulled out in front of us.

Me, on Autopilot: "Fucking taxi driving cunts, they're all the same...."

Taxi driver next to me: "Get out."
(unknownstuntman, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:42, Reply)

When cycling
Car drivers who over take, and then immediatly turn left (no indicators obviously) forcing emergency manouvers to avoid rear end collision.

If you have to turn off the road, is it so important to overtake a bike already doing 25 in a 30? Twats.
( Moonraker isn't the droid you were looking for, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:39, Reply)

Baby on board stickers!
''Dobby''

I'm glad that car the other day had a Baby on board sticker, because I was going to intentionaly ram it untill I saw it! Few!

People who don't look at the arrows on round abouts! Yes you can go stright on in the right hand lane when on a dual carrage way! But you cant turn right in the left lane you swamp donkeys!
(ruud316, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:39, Reply)

TheAlmightyBeev
One thing about motorways: the left hand lane is frequently SO tramlined by fucking million tonne lorries that's it's dangerous to drive in - this is why I suspect many people stick to the middle lane. Have you ever felt your car whip sideways at 70 when the tyres ride up the side of the dip? It's bloody scary.

My #1 reference here is the M3, it's screwed.
( Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill dat widdle boid is mine on, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:29, Reply)

I point at people.
If someone makes a mistake on the road, like pulling out in front of me, I simply point at them.

You have no idea the shear and unbridled rage this will bring out of people. I have seen drivers punching steering wheels, screaming abuse, widely flailing arms like enraged Gorillas… meanwhile, I just sit, emotionless, arm outstretched, pointing!

I am pretty sure it is going to get me beaten up one day.
(Minty Hit, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 10:29, Reply)