Computers are good in many ways but sitting in front of one of these bastards all day really blows. It's about time to put some miles on a two-wheeled death machine and forget about the daily curmudgeon.
Parking lot filled with shadows, crisp fall evening air setting in, blazing orange and gold leaves falling from the trees unto my feet, I will turn the key, straighten the wheels, pull the choke, and give her a crank, POP!!!!, she screams as she's roaring herself back to life and just got hit with premium octane and this bitch is about to get angry if I don't calm her down. Easy girl, push in the choke, let her idle slowly now, potata...potata...potata..., jacket on, helmet on, feeling breezy, climb aboard, "later fuckers" I think to myself as I ease into throttle letting her lean into the street, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, ahhhhh and finally 5th, the world is now rolling at the speed at which I make it exist at. Life becomes solitary and refined for a moment as the wind screams past my eardrums and into the past. Life has become Good.