The Safest, Reborn
Pine, Colorado 2007
This fall the god of men with small dicks found me in the saddle of a stranger’s speedy motorcycle on a semi-regular basis. I was lucky enough to probably put more miles on it than he had a chance to yet, as well as properly scrub in his Dunlops. All in a pair of CMYK Adidas, like a total unsafe twat.
The bike is now in some garage, behind a driveway of snowpack, dreaming of all of my weight pressing down on the left peg, my right knee digging down into the tank with just a single furry cheek clenching onto the seat.
And I sit hoping that the yellow Japanese turd doesn’t get picked up by its owner and that it somehow finds an extra 50hp somewhere in the cold.