A mother was working in the kitchen listening to her 5 -year-old son playing with his new electric train in the living room.
She heard the train stop and her son saying, "All of you sons of bitches who want off, get the hell off now... cause this is the last stop! And all of you sons of bitches who are getting on, get your asses on the train...cause we're going down the tracks.
The horrified mother went in and told her son, "We don't use that kind of language in this house. Now I want you to go to your room and you are to stay there for TWO HOURS. When you come out, you may play with your train...but I want you to use nice language."
Two hour s later, the boy came out of the bedroom and resumed playing with his train.Soon the train stopped and the mother heard her son say... "All passengers, please remember your things, thank you and hope your trip was a pleasant one.
We hope you will ride with us again soon."
She heard her little darling continue..."For those of you just
boarding, remember, there is no smoking in the train. We hope you will have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today."
As the mother began to smile, the child added, "For those of you who are pissed off about the TWO HOUR delay, please see the bitch in the kitchen!
How the Grinch Stole Sturgis
Every tramp in Scooterville loved Sturgis a lot,
But the Grinch who lived just north of Scooterville...
And so every August for 50 years,
Amid a great thunder and crunching of gears,
The tramps rode the Black Hills, those pagans and trolls!
Like salmon returning again to their shoals.
And the Grinch would turn bitter as coffee turned cold,
and could not be approached and would not be consoled.
The Grinch hated Sturgis! The whole Sturgis deal!
And if you ask why that's the way he would feel,
Well, it could be his attitude wasn't just right,
Or could it be his truss bound his buttocks too tight!
But I find that the likeliest reason of all,
May have been that his balls were two sizes too small!
But whatever the reason - his truss or his balls -
The Grinch hated Sturgis, just hated it all...
Just flat hated those tramps with their swagger and airs,
And hard miles of pavement that showed in their stares.
Of storms in the mountains and wind on the plains,
Or wrenching on roadsides in pouring down rains.
He hated those chicks with their pectorals bare,
And their T-back bikini's and tattoos like Cher!
He'd seen all their pictures at home in his chair,
He'd read Easyriders and wanted his share!!
Yes, the very word "Sturgis" would send Grinch on a tear,
But what irked him the worst was he couldn't be there!!
The Grinch cried to the sky, "Am I really to blame?"
Can I help being frightened by rides in the rain?
And he moaned and he whined, "Must I shoulder the shame"
And he grumbled and scoured his cowardly brain,
Until inspired, at last to him it came.....
I COULD TRAILER THE BIKE THERE, WHY, IT'S ALMOST THE SAME!!
And thusly encouraged, he returned to his town,
And called to the trailer trash, "Gather ye round!!!"
"For I've had Epiphany! Brothers take note,
You can trailer a bike like you trailer a boat!!!"
"We'll park out on the outskirts , offload the machines
And pretend that we rode in from, say, New Orleans!!!"
So the trash loaded trailers and cried what a hoot,
"We'll dress up like bikers with leather and boots...
Festoon them with conchos and feathers and such!
Oh what do you think, Is this eye patch too much?"
And they dialed up the A/C, and punched in the cruise,
Voila! Now to Sturgis - without the abuse!
The abuse that 2 wheels are rumored to give.
NO! We live to trailer and trailer to live!!
The trash swarmed to Black Hills, their purpose well focused
To drown the small town like a plague of Caged locusts!!
To balloon the run's turn out to five hundred grand!
Til the few real bikers had nowhere to stand,
And the Grinch grinned and giggled to see what he'd done-
Now Interstate 90 looked like Hwy 101!!!
Now those tramps out of Scooterville were not so dim witted, They saw
who was there and they saw who there fitted!!
So one said to the Grinch, "Who are you fooling jack?
Your jeans reek of Downy, your scoot's too imac!!
You're spoiling our party with your trailer posers!
What's the name of your outfit? Satan's chauffeurs?"
But the Grinch grumbled back, "Now it's OUR party too!
We invited ourselves just like did you!
Just show me the sign that says only some bum,
Who rides motorcycles is welcome to come,
And we'll load up our trailers and start our RVs,
And head for Laconia, or Daytona Beach!!"
Now the tramp out of Scooterville was taken aback
No such sign existed, had ever, in fact,
Such things were unspoken; all part of the lore.
No such sign had ever been needed before!!!
The tramps had to concede and withdraw from the field...
The Grinch and his ilk were unwilling to yield,
And flooded down main street of Sturgis by night...
And by day lined the highways in lines out of sight..
The tramps knew the end of their era was nigh,
And a breeze blew among them, a general sigh.
The tramp's spirits were trampled, and a mist filled their eyes.
Till suddenly some yelled "Wait, here comes Clive!"
And the cycle lord moseyed thru the bikers downcast,
And boomed "Cheer up brothers, we've not seen the last,
Of our noble degenerate lifestyle pass!"
Then Malcom E. Clive popped open a cold can of beer,
He stared at the Grinch with a leer and a sneer,
He shook his head slowly and hacked his throat clear!!
Then preached brother Malcom "That?s not why we're here!"
"It's not for the pins or the patches or beer!
It's not for babes with tits out to here -
Okay, maybe the babes, and the beer."
"Sturgis ain't something you buy in a store,
Or pull on a trailer, no, it's something much more."
"See, the Sturgis we love doesn't happen in town!
Isn't drag pipes and paint jobs, or pulling tops down!
The Sturgis we love is always around...
It's the sunset you saw from a scoot broken down,
It's the story you tell of the hail in Cheyenne,
The dust storm in Julesburg, the chill in Montan."
"The town merely serves as a place we all go.
To tell our stories to people who know ......
To tell those road tales of deluge and drought.
To crazies who know what YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!"
And yes there are trailers, and more every year,
And guys who just ride under skies crystal clear,
And pull into town in a jeep Wagoner.
And the sign may say "STURGIS"......
BUT THEY'VE NEVER BEEN HERE!!!!
A firefighter was working on the engine outside the station when he noticed a little girl nearby in a little
red wagon with little ladders hung off the sides and a garden hose tightly coiled in the middle.
The girl was wearing a firefighter's helmet. The wagon was being pulled by her dog and her cat.
The firefighter walked over to take a closer look. "That sure is a nice fire truck," the firefighter said with
"Thanks," the girl replied. The firefighter looked a little closer the fireman noticed the girl had tied the wagon
to her dog's collar & to the cat's testicles.
"Little partner," the firefighter said, "I don't want to tell you how to run your rig, but if you were to tie that rope
around the cat's collar, I think you could go faster."
The little girl replied thoughtfully, "You're probably right, but then I wouldn't have a siren."
Ok, here's the background. We bought my grand daughters father a new softail standard late Saturday. He was like a kid in a candy store, his first bike and all. He wanted to ride it that evening but I had plans and he wasn't taking it out without me. So, we went for a ride Sunday afternoon. He was riding beside me when he said he heard a rubbing noise on my bike. We stopped and looked and my rear brake pads are toast. I was going to bring it into the BK garage to work on it but every time I stopped in all the guys were messing around with what I assumed were the cleaning ladies. I didn't want to interupt, I mean, it looked like their was threesome going on in one corner. Anyway...
I called the dealership this morning to price the pads. $31 for the front and $35 for the back. Ok, not chicken feed, but hell, I didn't think they sold anything that was under $100. Just for shits and grins I asked how much it would be to install them. You ready for this, $51 dollars. I'm sorry, I couldn't pass it up. There was no way I was going to get to them until Saturday and I want to ride Saturday. They're going to have them done Wednesday. I know I have penance to do but it was worth it. I feel so dirty though. I don't know if I'll ever feel clean again.
By the way, if you like your bike loud, think again before you buy a 2007. They're telling me it will be about $1500 to do it because of the things they have done to the bikes. Sounds like between the EPA and Harley wanting to put the little shops out of business, they have made it very expensive to change the pipes from stock.
My name is Springer and I am proud to announce the grand opening of BK Noxious Weed and Floral. Want to say it with love or venom, drop in and pick a bouquet. Everything is available. Say it with a dozen roses or some tansy ragwort, you make the choice. Custom bouquets available with ribbon or razor wire trimmings.
Today the roses are on the house for all of the mothers out there. Happy Mothers Day.
Apple Computer announced today that it has developed a computer chip that can store and play music in women's breast implants. The iBOOB will cost between $499 and $599.
This is considered to be a major breakthrough because women are
always complaining about men staring at their breasts and not listening to them.
Little Johnny's class was going to perform a play. Johnny's teacher asked the class to raise their hands if they wanted to be in the play. To her dismay, Little Johnny's hand was up and waving like crazy. She didn't know what she was going to do.
Then she knew, she would give him one line and pray for the best. She explained to him that his part was "Hark. I hear a cannon". Little Johnny repeated after her "Hark. I hear a cannon". The teacher was surprised but pleased.
Two weeks before they were to perform the play the teacher asked Little Johnny, "ok, what's your part Johnny?" Johnny puffed out his chest and said in a huge voice "Hark, I hear a cannon". The teacher was overjoyed, skeptical, but overjoyed none the less.
A week before the play the teacher asked Little Johnny again. "What's your part Johnny?" Once again Little Johnny puffed out his chest and repeated with feeling "Hark, I hear a cannon". The teacher was so proud.
The evening of the play, the teacher repeated her question to Little Johnny. The results were the same, Johnny nailed it. The teacher was so relieved.
The play started, everything was going really well. When time came for Little Johnny's part, he walked onto the stage, grabbed his lapel and was about to speak his part. Suddenly there was a loud BOOOOOM!
In a huge voice Little Johnny yelled, "What the F*CK was that?"
I have seen the word Yankee on here lately. Can anyone on here give me a good explanation on what makes you a Yankee and what makes you a Jonny Reb. Sorry, not sure of the actual spelling. Do you actually have to have been born below the Mason-Dixon line or can you have moved to the south as a child to be considered a southerner? Or does your family have to have always lived one place or the other. Can you have never actually have lived in the south but still be a rebel? Is it possible to have lived in the USA all of your life and be neither? Here is why I ask. I was born in Nebraska which, I believe, was neutral territory during the civil war. I did have direct ancestors who fought with Quantrill's raiders, which of course were in Missouri, that migrated up to Nebraska after the war. And everyone who has an interest in the civil war and it's outcome, probably knows that much of the first fighting of the war occured on and around the Missouri/Kansas border and that folks in Missouri migrated from states that fought on the side of the south while settlers in Kansas were from states that did not support slavery. (GRAY GHOSTS OF THE CONFEDERACY" By Richard S. Brownlee). I currently live in Oregon which I don't believe was even a state at the time. Hence my confusion, am I a Yankee because I currently live in the north, a Rebel because my family lived in the south until after the civil war, or neither? Does geography even matter? This is not an attempt to cause sh*t, I am genuinely interested.
Who are your favorite music artists:
Fav song by that artist: Put Your Lights On (maybe Maria Maria)
Artist: Gary Moore
Fav song by that artist: Still Go t The Blues
Artist: Cross Canadian Ragweed
Fav song by that artist: Broken (or maybe Lighthouse Keeper)
Fav song by that artist: Red, White, and Blue
Artist: Pink Floyd
Fav song by that artist: What Do You Want From Me