Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: motorcycle hell.
I Ride: a safety wired fucking death trap
*flame suit on*
Now days, having a CDL, a good five figure hospital stay & a few nights in the gray bar motel, I won't risk riding, or even driving drunk.
The other day, my ex neighbor invited me over to have dinner with his family & talk motorcycles. As soon as I got there he offered me a corona, I drank it knowing I would be there at least a few hours & eat a huge meal. We had pork shisk-a-bobs with rice & I hung out showing his boy everything about my KZ. I went home, a 1 mile ride tops & even then I thought I could feel a difference but it might have paranoia.
That's the farthest I've pushed it in quite awhile.
But when I was younger...
I'm not fully going into the completely retarded things I've done while being 110% soused but here's some perspective. I know it's not an excuse, just the rural area I grew up in drinking was common place & easily accepted. When my friends & I were all kids, we worked, hot roded anything we could get our hands on & drank. I remember going down to the V at maybe 16 & getting relatively smashed, playing darts with old men until they all went home & then finding someone to buy more booze (or provide us with any other sort of dope for that matter). Backroad boozin' & cruzin' was practically a sport for us, I can't remember how many times (if) the cop would finally catch us & just tell us to go home because he didn't want to do the paperwork. Keggers were almost a weekly occurrence before I could buy smokes.
Like the old phrase goes, 'there ain't much to do around here besides drink, fight & fuck.'
I've never been much of a fighter.
-Cessna three zero november
the freak is king.