Cycling into work today, a bloke on a bike infront of me cut inside of a bus as it turned a corner in King's Cross, almost flattening him. Unable to admonish the culprit, who jumped the next lights and headed off down Euston Road, the driver wound down his window and administered a perfunctory bollocking to me as a convenient representative of the wider cycling public. Instead of responding with my usual out of breath and consequently pubescently pitched "fuck you", I just smiled. I smiled because Calvin Harris' second album Ready For The Weekend was blarting away in my right ear.