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by Turtle Jones
I want that.
That has been the feeling going around here lately. And no, it isn't about sex or anything like that. This is about things you can purchase. And yes. Yes, I know you can purchase sex, but that is another story for another time. This is about big purchases. Things you buy just cause they make you feel good or look cool. Could be anything really but in my case, it seems it has to be big and a little bit pricey.
If you read a little into what I just wrote, you might be thinking that I am about to go out and buy like an 8 ball or something but no, mien readers, taint dope we talking about here. Talkin' 'bout things that make you smile. Yes. Yes, I know dope and sex can make you smile, but once again, that is another story for another time. Wait til I tell you about the one legged hooker in Reno.....
But for now, I wanna talk about my new cool toy. Well, cool as in "I still haven't gotten it yet" cool.
Yup. Fuck the world. Chasing my dreams. Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you the same thing about me and motorcycles. "I was born to die on one."
Naked in a motorcycle crash.
Why fight destiny?
It doesn't fight me.
So in a sleepless night a ad came on my TV screaming some shit about 69 bucks a month and some way over inflated interest rate for a bike. In my grogginess, I looked up at the screen and stared at a big fat biker.
He had a big ass smile on his face.
Giving me a thumbs up.
I needed that bike.
So after a little bit of convincing of the girl and a little bit of research, I craved it. I wanted it.
After all, he was giving me the thumbs up.
So I packed up with Michele and cruised out to the dealership to take a look at it. I walked in on it and grabbed the tank. Huge. Big and heavy. Like Phillip Michael Thomas' cock huge. So I sat on it. Not Phillip Michael Thomas' cock, but the bike. While I am sure Mr. Thomas has a nice cock, I am not in the business of straddling an over the hill, 80's TV stars cock. At least not at this time that is.
So I sat on it. Michele was there. Staring at it with me. Not wanting to get on because she would think it was too cool. Remember, she doesn't want me to get a bike. Thinks I'll die and shit.
Well off course I'll die on it.
Totally naked death on a bike.
Destiny, remember? -T
Michele does have something to say about this:
At first I was totally against this, just because of the whole death wish thing. Imagine this conversation:
"Hey, did I ever tell you that I've had this premonition since I'm a kid that I'm gonna die on a motorcycle?"
He might as well have said "I'm going to buy a bottle of poison and drink it."
Being the good girlfriend I am, I went with him to look at bikes. Was I humoring him? Maybe. Maybe not.
When we got to the showroom and he saw the exact one he wanted and he sat on that thing, his face lit up just like it does when I do that thing to him. I guess the bike felt that good between his legs.
And damn if it didn't look good, too.
I would never tell him "no, you can't buy a bike." Hell, it's not like he would listen to me anyhow if I did. But I'm guessing he took my "you look totally hot on that thing" as a seal of approval.
Getting me to ride on it, however, is going to be a whole other kind of convincing. If he wants to tempt fate and basically invite Death into his house, so be it. I love him and all, but I don't think I'm quite ready to be road pizza yet.
(Yea, I'm sure that I'll end up spending this summer on the back of bike, screaming about bugs in my face and all that. But enjoying it nonentheless) -M