I'm Puttin' my Foot Down !

I've had too many, "I've made up my mind and I'm buyin' a (fill in the blank with a dual sport motorcycle)" phone calls from Nate.

Listen to me Jr, Here are your options:

The I Want to Be a Burden to my Riding Buddies Option: You are going to buy a new BMW of any flavour. I will help you pick it up four times. These can be the first four times you drop it or the 12th through 15th or the first 15th, 31st, 35th (you get the idea) but only four times. After that you are on your own. I will carry only one hanky for you to dry the tears shed from ruining the appearance of a gorgeous motorcycle, and I will not accompany you home and witness the abuse you will take when DrWho sees what you have done to your pretty bike. I don't want to hear from you again until it's done.

The Money is No Object Option:
You are going to buy a new KLX250S. I don't want to hear from you again until it's done.

The I Will Grow Into It Option:
You are going to buy a slightly used and upgraded yellow DRZ400S. I don't want to hear from you again until it's done.

The I Just Need a Ratbike to Get Going with DualSport Option:
You are going to buy a slightly used !cheap! street legal dirtbike of any brand, color, size, so long as the balls of your feet touch the ground. I don't want to hear from you again until it's done.

Of course there's always the SwampThing......

And what's all this talk of house selling, moving, childcare, eating, and breathing? There are motorccle things to be done. Get your head on straight!

Super Dad !

I'll let my youngest tell the tale:

My dad and I went to a car dealer. He said I would be surprised. I wasn't. We went into a building. I saw a small dirtbike. It was yellow. Then my eyes glanced over and I saw the dirtbike of my dreams! I sat on the yellow one, then I sat on my dreambike. It was perfect. I asked Dad if I could get it. Then he payed for it and signed some papers and we left. We went to pick up my older sister. When we got home Dad got my dream bike out. He also got the yellow bike out and me and my sister rode them.

See the girls here!

* 17 Mb file - Bandwidth Warning

The Modern Woman : Dateless

I took the wife on a date Saturday night. Babysitter, Limousine to Louisville and back, Prime Rib, George Strait; pretty much the works. Big Fun, people. Go see George before he hangs it up. He's really startin' to show his age. The show, however, was flawless and Ol' George is old school when it comes to entertainin'. He just steps to the microphone and sings #1 hits one after another. No twistin', or obnoxious unmanly dancin' whatsoever. Just toe tappin' and croonin' the way Hank invented it.

The first thing we spot when we pulled up to Freedom Hall was a woman exiting an adjacent limo ass-first. Note I didn't say skirt first. That's because it was ass with pretty much a washcloth over it, or riding up over it. Nothing left for the imagination as the goods were clearly displayed.

Turns out that was to be the rule rather than the exception. There was much of many a female body displayed in all states of bloom and decay from nubile to "rode hard and put up wet" and often more sheer volume of exposed abdominal flesh than be comfortably viewed on a 20 ounce prime rib.

This was in stark contrast to most of the menfolk there, as nearly to the man they wore starched shirts, shiney boots, and Stetson hats. Hell, some of the older fellas even had creases ironed into their jeans (a sure sign of a loving wife).


Half way through the concert after a few beer/bathroom runs I noticed most of the females in attendence were solo or with a buddychick or two. I'm not quite sure what to make of that as the wares were on display for any interested party to consider. Personally I'm thinkin' these (ahem) ladies, aside from their display of bare excess cellulite, have become the "havenots" in the male/female courtship rite by virtue of offering goods so cheaply they have stifled demand. Flooded the market, as it were.

That's what I think. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.