Bent Words

Bent Words

June 05, 2015

You might be a racer if (you might be a damn good rider if)...

You walk proper lines through the grocery store with the cart.
-- Straight up. How do you not get it? Pick a line, be predictable and give me some room, yo!

You've ever had to explain the term "pucker factor".
-- I've had quite a few near misses. And that's the pucker.

You've paid $5.00 a gallon for gas without complaining.
-- It smells so good! Just let your bike sit there and run! It's so lean that you can let your pit bike sit all winter long and start the bitch up in spring, months later, no stable, no problem.

Your idea of a decent sort of house to buy is one with a basement and a big garage, a downhill driveway so you can bump-start your racebike, and a working toilet on the property somewhere.
-- Preferably a bathroom damn near everywhere.

You bought a race bike before buying a house.
-- Owned more bikes than cars, does that count?

You bought a race bike before buying furniture for the new house.
-- Sit on the bike, fuck the couch.

You're looking for a bike transport vehicle and still haven't bought furniture!
-- Alas, never been there. Yet.

You hear "overcooked it" and think "off the track" instead of "Denny's".
-- If you're hardcore, you think of both.

You sit on your race bike in the garage and make bike noises and shift and practice your throttle blipping/braking, while waiting for your motor to get back from the shop.
-- Air Wheelie!

You look at the purchase of tools as a long term investment.
-- Taxes, yo.

At least one of your children was conceived at a race track.
-- Or the idea of!

Your garage has more bikes than your house has bedrooms.
-- Mmmm, equal to.

You have enough spare parts to build another bike.
-- Nod and smile, not been there.

You have bike parts in your cubicle at work.
-- Alas, not for many years.

You registered for wedding gifts at Marietta Motorsports.
-- Where the HELL is that?! I only registered at my own shop. Silly...

After your answer to "How was your weekend?" the next question is always: "And you do this for fun? Right?"
-- So serious was I, that everyone knew I did it for keeps. At least the photo part.

You've ported your 2-stroke lawn mower, chain saw, or weed eater.
-- I take care of my lawn shit -- never had to mess with the carbs.

Your reading material in your bathroom consists of a 1-888-FASTLAP catalog, and 400 bike magazines, none of which have centerfolds.
-- Reading material not necessary, I don't dick around when it comes to pooping.

Some people only know you by your racing class & bike number.
-- I seriously only know some people by their racing #s.

Your first date involves asking her to crew for you.
-- Yeah. A clean bike is a fast bike!

You plan your wedding around the race schedule.
-- My original wedding plans were race plans. I'm the winner.

You complain when cars in front of you on highway off-ramps don't stay on the line, causing your exit speed to drop.
-- I have the PERFECT line through round-a-bouts, wasting little space or speed.

You tell a friend you need to clean up the head this weekend and they think you mean the toilet.
-- NOT a mechanic.

You gladly pay $9 for a bottle of engine oil.
-- Debate is still out on the oil saga. Oil is oil.

You hate long distance driving, but gladly drive 800 miles to the race track.

You save broken bike parts as "momentos".
-- Sprockets are art.

You've found your lawnmower runs pretty good on 108 octane gas
-- Small engines just do!

You've got 3 immaculate race bikes always race ready, but your wife has to nag you for 2 months before you fix the headlight in her car.
-- Hmmm, I don't nag, I do.

Written at 9:01 p.m.