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No Excuses. By Dan Sarf. I got this mate, nice fellow, easy going, smart, low pressure but he's got this problem, that being; he's in to motorcycles, has been for many years now... only he doesn't have a ride right now. Can't afford one you see, got to pay bills and such, poor credit etc. etc. Therefore the summer has arrived, will no doubt soon depart as is it's custom, and he still ain't out riding. It's fukkin pitiful. Now personally I'm completely an utterly addicted to riding motorsickles, and just like you (ya do ride a motorcycle .....right ?), I get out there any chance I get, I mean any chance. Running errands, going to work, out for a brew, you name it my arse is in the saddle. Now I've stated it before, and it's no secret anyhow, that I'm neither a Trump nor a Hearst when it comes to currency management. However no matter how bad things get, and from time to time they get pretty bad, I always manage to keep a bike on the road. The difference between me and my mate you see, is pride. Pride is an extremely broad subject, we all have it, sometimes it can be a great thing and at others it can be a pain in the arse. It all depends on how it manifests itself in any given situation. My mate it seems is too proud to be sliding around town on some oily old rattlettrap, too proud to suffer the indignity of bump starting his motorsickle at closing time, too proud to call up a buddy for the third time in a month, because the damn thing broke down again. Not me, I suffer no such qualms, to me it's far more embarrasing to spend forty five minutes looking for parking, or to ask some hottie back to the shack and then introduce her to the rusting behemoth that is my truck. I'm far too proud to tell my friends that I can't go riding because I haven't got anything to ride, in fact I find the very thought of being without a motorcycle of any kind completely mortifying. Besides I once fell over trying to bump start my bike outside a club, I banged myself up a bit and some cutie ended up taking me home out of sympathy. Magic. There's always some excuse with my mate, some valid reason why he doesn't at this very moment own a bike. Seems he has a penchant for the go-fasty, shiny type of motorcycle, in particular those that come in red. Mind you that doesn't stop him from coming over to my place and taking my latest POS out for a burn, always comes back with a massive shit eating grin on his face too. I've tried convincing him to go out and buy any old pile and fix it up, just to get out on the road, no fukkin chance, got to be cool, got to be fast. Please, if you could, just answer me this, how cool and fast can you be on a fukkin bus? A man aint a man with a ticket in his hand. That's not the worst part however, this geezer - my mate, has got not one but TWO cars. Two cars, for the love of Brough, who needs two cars. Admittedly one of them is a shiny, fast, cool old car but I'm thinking he could sell the commuter box and grab a halfway decent red, shiny, fast motorcycle. I think my mate is a bit of a wanker. Now, if you'll excuse my brevity, I have a delicious chopper to re-wire. dansarf@sfUrbanmoto.com |
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