weeble wobble biker boy

I think I’m going out this weekend and look at motorcycles. I’ve always wanted one and I really think now’s the time to get it done and shit. But since this is my first one I wanna go as lowball as possible cause I know I’m gonna drop it more then a few times. Plus as my record stands my luck with two-wheeled shit isn’t so good. Had a mini-bike as a kid and ran that into garage doors more times then I care to or can remember. Took my father’s brand new motorcycle and rode it into a tree. He’s still turning over in his grave over that one. But I’m fairly confident that I can master one or at least remember where the brakes are this time around. I told my sister that I might consider selling my truck to finance my bike purchase, but I kind’a got the feeling she wasn’t totally cool with that idea, might’a been all the screaming and shit she was doing. But I’m determined hook or crook to get one. I just wanna ride and feel the wind in my hair? Anyway, I just wanna ride. Some people have mentioned the mid-age crises thing, but like I’ve said before I’ve never believed in that middle age crap. I think it’s just that some people get to a certain point in their lives where they can look around go ok, now it’s time for me. Plus forty-five isn’t middle age by any means. It just gives me the luxury of forgetting more shit then most of you will ever learn. But I am gonna to have to find a bike with a low seat height. It’s a bitch when after so many years you have one of those life-changing realizations. One of mine was when I finally had to accept the fact that I have short legs. Here I am standing well over six feet, and I have legs the length of a ten year olds. Goddammit, you might as well call me fuckin weeble wobble boy. Fuck short legs, no body hair, fat and bald, I might as well start parking in the handicapped spaces. “Breath, Breath”. So a lowrider type cruiser would have to be the ticket for me so that my short assed legs can touch the fuckin ground and shit. Oh, switching subjects and in a “goddammit that’s what you get” moment, a British cricket club in west England decided they wanted to get rid of some old brush by burning it. So after throwing more crap on top of the brush pile and setting it afire, they soon had a roaring bonfire going. But unbeknownst to all there was a rabbit sleeping off its meal under all the brush, who with fur ablaze came running out zipping madly all over the place. The burning bunny in a blind “my ass is burning” panic ran into a storage shed where the cricket club had all it’s equipment stored setting the shed and it’s contents on fire. Shit got burned up to the tune of over one hundred thousand dollars. How’s that for a fuck you?

"and the monkey flipped the switch"