Welcome to Prague. This is not the Disneyland Prague you see in travel brochures, where drunken, fatty gits are mobbed by dolphin-like hotties because of a carelessly exposed passport. This Prague is like the disneyland for closet-cases that actually is. I ride a bike here as a commuter and just for fun. I’m a masochist. There are cobblestones, one-way tangles and the worst drivers West of the Carpathians. Why is this? How could it be that such a technically-minded and more or less orderly nation has somehow festered with aggressive mamas boys who wretchedly project their impotence from the air-conditioned safety of their motorized thrones? Who knows. It’s not for me to say. I’ve managed to survive riding for 10 years amongst the douche, but I take it day by day. This blog is a record of my verbose and inefficient struggle against motorized douchebaggery. Join me in the ever-evolving festival of douche that is Czech driving!


%d bloggers like this: