From yesterday’s epic ride (22.5 miles, 2 hours 14 minutes, 10.1 mph average, with no dismounts.) 
First, I’m riding along a raised section of the river bank. The river is to my right, and the grass slopes down quite steeply to the edge of the water, where a man is fishing, and his family are playing noisily. As I ride past, the children laugh rudely, forcing the laughter - showing derision expressively if not articulately.
On my way back, half an hour or so later, the father has had plenty of time to think of a witty commnet to impress and amuse his family. Here it is:
“Where’s the other half of your bike?”
Prepared for this eventuality, I reply, “Where’s your trawler?”
“Well there’s no bloody need to shout out something stupid like that,” he replies, either blind to the irony, or hiding it well.
Separately, I am riding along the river bank when I pass three drunks, lost in ciderspace. I am making good time on the 700c, with one arm free, and my hand on the front of the seat. A few days ago, the same three winos shouted, “Yay, you go my mate!” and “I think he should be in the circus!” so I’m not expecting originality today.
Then, just as I pass, one says, “I thought you was holding your cock!”
Original, if not exceptionally amusing.
If he’d known that I’d just ridden 13 miles without a stop, he might have realised how close he was to his suggestion becoming necessary.
Tell me, is the plural of “wino”, “wini”?
