You are a VERY sick child, Kelly! And, I, just OLD Harley trash, who is seeking you out every time your fanny hit the seat. There you are!!
ah, ok, I drop out of 5th into 3rd and g-e-t r-e-a-d-y. you are cooking along at 20, hair streaming, nasty attitude as always, and I, oh, about 45 … I don’t want to destabilize my bike when I kick your front wheel.
you never see me, it’s all a blurrrrrrr as you go airborne. But I catch the shine off your braces when you scream! elbows, knee caps, torn ligaments (they can be repaired but there is a six month recovery time while your twisted wreckage of a bicycle rusts in the rain on the edge of an alleyway.)
am I sad; remorseful?? ooohono. because you have taught me well … you are my anti-hero. your only big mistake is you cannot peddle fast enough to elude me. never, not ever. but once you can walk again without a limp, BUY A HARLEY and we’ll go for a cruise in the Ozark Mountains.
But I will watch you very carefully!!!!