Pedalphile

Here's a story about a man who was "caught having sex with his bicycle".

Now, the obvious questions are WHAT? and WHY?

But I want to put those aside for one moment as I'm not exactly sure why the poor guy has been convicted of a crime.

I'm no lawyer, but I'm pretty sure that it's not an offence, per se, to have sex with a bicycle. OK, the bike is unable to give its consent, but then, as it's not a sentient being, who cares? And I would imagine that age of consent doesn't come into the equation.

No. He was actually convicted of "a sexually aggravated breach of the peace by conducting himself in a disorderly manner and simulating sex". Hmmm...

Now, I'm not usually one to moan about erosion of our personal freedom, but this really takes the biscuit for me. It would appear that if you do something in the privacy of your own locked room, that isn't in any way illegal, but someone walks into that room and takes offence, then you've committed a crime.

It seems to me that it's only the fact that the poor bastard was sad and desperate (and drunk) enough to be getting it on with his velocipede that was an issue. A "breach of the peace". Errr, no. He was doing what he was doing in private, without anyone's knowledge. Presumably, if he'd been entertaining a lady-friend (or Madam Palm and Her Five Daughters) the two cleaners who walked in would have just apologised and walked out without causing a fuss.

Glasgow, it seems, is intolerant of sexual kinks. It's not enough that the man has to bear the shame and ignominy of knowing that wherever he goes people will call him "saddle-shagger" behind his back.

Of course not. The Sheriff of Glasgow has ordered him to be put on the sexual offenders register. How utterly ridiculous! What purpose does this serve? Nobody needs protecting from this man. He's harmless to people. And there's no evidence that he goes around defiling the cycles of all and sundry, hanging around the bike-racks at the central railway station, is there?

What a silly, heavy-handed waste of time and money. I feel sorry for the poor sod.

Right - I'm off to fiddle with my pump and polish my helmet...