"I don't like that" tuesday! (with a special guest!)

Just to really throw everyone into a tailspin, I am going to start this week's "IDLTT" with something I DO like. I guess it's not something, it's someone... her name is Shauna Rogers. many of you know her and read all of the luscious mind nuggets she sprinkles on her blog. She was eager to contribute to IDLTT about something I agree with her whole-heartedly about:

Unicycles and the people who ride them.

I don't even know how I excluded them from the group I ranted about last week that included magicians, ventriloquists and jugglers. I am not a malicious or violent person, but i see a unicyclist and I instantly wish for an earthquake or a very strong gust of wind. 

Shauna has been especially scarred by on of these one-wheeled douchebags and, as part of her therapy, she has composed an open letter to the person that has caused her trauma:

Dear University of Oregon Unicyclist,

You are not a hot shot. You think you are. It has been 5 years since our encounter and I still hate you. I still hate the thought of you, all high and mighty on your stupid unicycle. With your dumb helmet and incredibly bulky and unsexy elbow and knee pads, that were all scratched up. (Proof that you are not such a hot-shot... you fall! I see your scratches!!)

You are the reason I absolutely hate unicyclists and kind of always want to throw sticks in their spokes. It all comes down to you. Do you remember why? Do you remember what you did to me 5 years ago, on the University of Oregon campus, in April, while I was walking to class? Do you? Let me refresh your unicycling-fog of a memory.

I was walking to class. It was by the Knight Library. I was on the right side of the path, minding my own business. Someone else was walking towards me, but they were on the correct side of the path as well. We were going to walk by each other just fine, not even a brush of the fingertips. We were a perfect distance apart, walking at a perfect pace. We were both amazingly attractive and smart looking. 

And then I felt goosebumps on my neck. Something was going to happen. And in 0.45 seconds, it did. There was a nasty hand on my shoulder, in a fingerless leather glove. Make that pleather glove. I am sure it wasn't real leather. YOU, unicyclist, tried to ride your damn unicycle AKA dork mobile in between me and my innocent fellow walker. You braced yourself so you wouldn't fall, and so you could make the tight squeeze between us, on my SHOULDER. You touched me. And you didn't say sorry. And like the dork-tard you are, you rode off, leaving me and said-walker confused, shaking and vulnerable. You touched both of us. And you didn't fall. I wish you did.

Guess what is worse? You were in my class. You RODE your unicycle into the classroom and then took off your helmet and shook your head like you were on a Pantene Pro-V commercial. Your dandruff sprayed the people sitting a row in front of you. You parked your unicycle on the railing of the ramp of the classroom and I glared at you the entire class. For the rest of the term.

I still know your face. If I see you again, you will know it. I will know it. The world will know it.

It's because of your hot-shot maneuvers that I hate everything attached to the unicycle. You could be the hottest person in the world, but the moment you get on a unicycle, to me, it'll be like you are missing 1/2 your face and your reproductive organs. I am not interested.

I'm going to get you!

Shauna

She is so brave and eloquent.