| little dragons WORDS |
| CALL HIM SIR ... THAT OLD BIKER DUDE When it comes to bikes and barroom fights, well I guess I've seen a few. i've straddled the hogs and run after the broads and swilled down an ocean of brew. It took me some years ... to dry behind the ears and learn to keep my mouth shut. To lose my cool and not act like a fool over some drunken, barfly slut. Now, I got a few bumps and took my lumps; when some bozo was knocking me down, but more often then not ... I came out on top and I thought I was the baddest in town. I packed a piece in my boot, when I rode on my scoot and my belt held yet another and if I got any lip ... somebody got hit I was one ... no shit ... badass fucker. It was Friday night at the ol'Blue Light my favorite scooter tramp bar. yeah, I was struttin my stuff and actin real tuff Playin biker super star. With a gal on my lap, I was into my rap full of smoke, tequila and beer. "I can ride any putt or kick any butt better than any damn biker here!!" I sat there and glared; while the jukebox blared. some silly ass cowboy song and I howled out the tune and kept time with a spoon while the gal massaged my ol dong. I laughed and I joked and was taking a toke. when an old dude bumped into my stool. With a glare at the crowd; I bark out loud "Hey!, you crazy old fool!" "Are you touched in the head or just stupid instead? Are you spastic ... you damn clumsy ox? Get outta here fast or I'll kick your old ass and they'll send you home in a box. There wasn't a sound as the old dude turned around and heaved one long and tired sigh. A crusty galoot, he look tough as an old boot and he fixed me with his one good eye. "Now look, son" he said with a shake of his head. "Im a biker not looking for strife. Don't be fooled by gray hair or this eyepatch I wear I've been on two wheels all my life" "Im weathered and gnarly, but I still ride a Harley and I ain't never backed down yet. But I'll buy you a beer and we'll skip this beef here. If you'll show an old man some respect. "You think I care about your fucking gray hair?" I shouted and slugged down my beer. You can bet your gray stubble, there's gonna be trouble. You half-assed, old dip-shit Queer!" I could hear my own breath and the room smelled like death and the old cat stared at the floor. Then he lifted his head and the words that he said I'll remember when Im a 104. I gave you an out ... you damned kid lout, but I guess youre as dumb as you look "you just ain't been told ... bout respect for the old." and with that he threw a left hook. At the end of his wrist was a cast iron fist; that damn near knock out my brain and when the fog cleared ... my vision was bleared and I couldn't remember my name. The old coots voice hissed"Now don't get me pissed Mind your manners and just be polite. Let's make our mends and all go home friends and forget this stupid ass fight. I got to my knees and let out a sneeze; that spilled blood all over the floor. I shoulda stayed down, but like a jerk off clown I stood up in the puddle of gore. I said" you really a sucker, you gray haired fucker You half dead, old, bag of guts. Kiss yur scoot goodbye, cause you're fixin to die. Then he kicked me square in the nuts. The crowd made for the door as I thrashed on the floor. In a pain like I never felt but through all raw hurt in the blood and the dirt I went for the gun in my belt. But I just made things worse ... the old guy was first and his boot came down on my hand with a sickening crunch, the bones popped in a bunch and I treid, but failed to stand. Well I guess he got mad, cause the rest was real bad. As my rudness he attempted to cure. There were steel toed kicks and roundhouse licks. You get the Idea I'm sure. With my ribs all mushed and my fingers crushed I was just this side of dead. My bones were broke a I thought I'd croak but I heard the words that he said "I may be gray, but I got this way by out toughin' shitheads like you. Real bikers ain't old till they're dead and cold and I've got some more livin' to do. Then he walked out the bar and I heard from afar as his bikes engine caught and as the blood dried ... I lay there and tried to figure out just what I was taught. And the moral seemed clear, through the blood and the beer. Though it hurt to much to stir. With an old biker dude ... don't ever be rude Just smile and always say ,,,SIR. Author Unknown. |
| THE DEVIL -VS - THE FLAMING KNIGHT The Connecticut FLAMING KNIGHTS was hanging out one Saturday night looking at the babes, who looked fit and tight. The Southern Connecticut, FLAMING KNIGHTS an all female crew, came rolling up to see whats' new. Then Bristol, Bridgeport, Waterbury and Fair Heaven came too. The So., Ct., crew laughed at the fellows playing their women watching game and said; " my brothers your not the blame. The New Haven Chapter founders of the club just walked out of the Gemini Pub. They said; "we are all here, lets go ... you all know where. So we got on our bikes. To a place the city dislikes. A place we called the ring where the winner becomes king. The Ring was a place where we like to race; above 140 is the pace. A quarter of a mile that is our style mean wile the air became file. From out of nowhere the Devil and his crew appeared with a Fire Red Drag Bike pulled by a Dark Black Trike with up ward sweeps; the whole thing gave me the creeps. The Devil said; " I came to race, I'll send your best to Hell in disgrace. I'll whip your best, I'll put him to the test, then all of you can lay his ass to rest. Well Devil that task for you will be a hard one, because the FLAMING KNIGHT you will race is our chosen one. We felt a little uneasy. Sir Knight said: "watch this motherfucker he's sleazy and as FLAMING KNIGHTS if we go down it won't be easy. Bolden ask; Hey devil what do you want to race for? You ugly son of whore. "I want your souls. I want everyone's , even those of yours untold". "well; what we want is your Castle of fire the place you dwell and when we win it the new address will be 316 Dixwell. "Then at midnight we will roll at the end the loser pays the toll". The handkerchief at midnight was dropped to everyone time seems to stop. When it hit the ground you couldn't here a sound from nothing that was around. And as the rear wheels began to smoke the ground and thunder was the sound that shook everything that was around. Into the wind the Devil and that FLAMING KNIGHT turn their throttles with all their might. The fire from the bikes caused a hell of a sight as the rear wheels began to ignite. First the devil left the hole, but that lead he would not hold. That FLAMING KNIGHT went by him so fast all the Devil could see was that FLAMING KNIGHT ass. That FLAMING KNIGHT ... he did won the Devil our new Fire Castle he did brung. Well you can tell the FLAMING KNIGHTS are doing swell at their New Fire Castle at 316 Dixwell. by. Little dragon (6/3/2001) |
| ROAD PRAYER MAY GOD BLESS THE IRON UPON WHICH WE SIT MAY GOD BLESS THE WIND IN OUR FACE MAY GOD BLESS THE DAY MAY IT BE LONG MAY GOD BLESS THE NIGHT THAT'S CLEAR AND BRIGHT MAY GOD BLESS THE ROAD THAT WERE ON MAY GOD BLESS THE ROAD THAT DISAPPEAR IN OUR MIRRORS AND MOST OF ALL MAY GOD BLESS THE ROAD THAT LAYS DOWN BEFORE US. AMEN. By Little Dragon |
A FEW WORDS FROM PEOPLE WHO RIDE.
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