raja777m
Ride like you own it..!
Whoops sorry mate.....Let me help you.
Dafuq did I just saw?
I literally spilled out my green tea out of my mouth..!
I guess the bike took revenge of that ignorant driver
Last edited:
~~Daily Feed, post what made you laugh today ~~
- Thread starter FinalImpact
- Start date
Dafuq did I just saw?
I literally spilled out my green tea out of my mouth..!
I guess the bike took revenge of that ignorant driver
For those of you with chrome hair like mine....
LFZ6
Member
And this is why I hate squirrels.............
I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect. I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.
It was a squirrel and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close! . I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle; but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.
I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened; and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular. He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
And losing...
I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.
It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristine yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands; and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of! a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque.
This is what the Valkyrie is made for; and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared, and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in - well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.
The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.
This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices; but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle. My brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time, the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death); and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the face plate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment); so her front end started to drop.
Now, picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally, I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked - sort of.
Spectacularly sort of ...so to speak.
Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throw! was a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams.
They weren't mine.
I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things.
First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.
So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.
That was one thing. The other?
Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids. (Not original, found it a LONG time ago).
I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect. I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.
It was a squirrel and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close! . I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle; but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.
I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened; and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Bonzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular. He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.
And losing...
I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.
It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristine yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands; and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact, he landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of! a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque.
This is what the Valkyrie is made for; and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared, and the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in - well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back.
The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike.
This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices; but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle. My brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time, the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death); and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me. As the face plate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPMs on the Dragon maxed out (since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment); so her front end started to drop.
Now, picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very raggedly torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out of the mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally, I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked - sort of.
Spectacularly sort of ...so to speak.
Picture a new scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly, a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn T-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength throw! was a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams.
They weren't mine.
I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign of a busy cross street. I would have returned to 'fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. Except for two things.
First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody's front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been in the driver's seat was standing in the street, aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car.
So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.
That was one thing. The other?
Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me. That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car. A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best to just buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a whole lot of Band-Aids. (Not original, found it a LONG time ago).
Impaired rider literally ran over this sign in Swinomish (Skagit Co) during crash. Non-life threatening. #DriveSober
raja777m
Ride like you own it..!
10 characters.
raja777m
Ride like you own it..!
In my office parking lot..!
Stolen from a posting on PNW Moto, a local forum here in the Pacific NW:
Are you this old?
I have been riding a bit over 50 years now. And I dont know why, but I got to thinking about things that we all USED to say or read or do regarding motorcycles that you just do not hear anymore. Not unless you are talking vintage bikes anyway.
A few examples:
1. What is the shift pattern?
2. What side does she shift on?
3. Need to tickle (or trickle) the carb(s) first?
4. Need to move adjust the spark advance?
5. Has it got a compression release?
6. Put new points and condenser in it lately?
7. Is it a three speed or four speed box?
8. Did it come with a trail sprocket?
9. Huh? Disk brakes on a bike? Are you nuts? They dont need those!
10. I need a new ribbed tire for the front and a K70 for the rear.
11. Fill it up with 100 octane will ya, buddy?
12. Here's a dollar for two quarts of oil. Castrol R.
13. Yeah, those little Jap bikes are cute but no way they will hold up like America iron will. Doubt those little thing ever make it 5 thousand miles. Never 10K you can bet your ass on that!
14. Nothing will ever beat the Vincent Black Shadow in top speed. It will never be done.
15. What? A 750 four cylinder engine from Honda? Big deal. It's been tried before and never with success. Mark my words the Japs are going to lose their asses on this one. People dont want engines with more than two cylinders in them. No one is going to pay squat for anything more than a twin. Them japs need to stick with building cameras and transistor radios.
16. Water cooled engines have been tried a sent to the scrap pile. All bikes will be air cooled from now on. Just no need for water cooling.
17. Those British bikes will always be around. BSA, Norton, Ariel, Triumph. Royal Enfield, Velocette. All them jap diddlers will be all forgot about and everyone will be riding real motorcycles again. You watch and see! I know for a fact that in 5 years TOPS all the jap bikes will be in a junk pile somewhere and Mr Honda will be on the next boat back to Japan. We dont need that cheap Jap junk here! It will never be any good I'm telling ya. Never. Now, Buco helmets! There's a brand that's going to be here forever!
Are you this old?
I have been riding a bit over 50 years now. And I dont know why, but I got to thinking about things that we all USED to say or read or do regarding motorcycles that you just do not hear anymore. Not unless you are talking vintage bikes anyway.
A few examples:
1. What is the shift pattern?
2. What side does she shift on?
3. Need to tickle (or trickle) the carb(s) first?
4. Need to move adjust the spark advance?
5. Has it got a compression release?
6. Put new points and condenser in it lately?
7. Is it a three speed or four speed box?
8. Did it come with a trail sprocket?
9. Huh? Disk brakes on a bike? Are you nuts? They dont need those!
10. I need a new ribbed tire for the front and a K70 for the rear.
11. Fill it up with 100 octane will ya, buddy?
12. Here's a dollar for two quarts of oil. Castrol R.
13. Yeah, those little Jap bikes are cute but no way they will hold up like America iron will. Doubt those little thing ever make it 5 thousand miles. Never 10K you can bet your ass on that!
14. Nothing will ever beat the Vincent Black Shadow in top speed. It will never be done.
15. What? A 750 four cylinder engine from Honda? Big deal. It's been tried before and never with success. Mark my words the Japs are going to lose their asses on this one. People dont want engines with more than two cylinders in them. No one is going to pay squat for anything more than a twin. Them japs need to stick with building cameras and transistor radios.
16. Water cooled engines have been tried a sent to the scrap pile. All bikes will be air cooled from now on. Just no need for water cooling.
17. Those British bikes will always be around. BSA, Norton, Ariel, Triumph. Royal Enfield, Velocette. All them jap diddlers will be all forgot about and everyone will be riding real motorcycles again. You watch and see! I know for a fact that in 5 years TOPS all the jap bikes will be in a junk pile somewhere and Mr Honda will be on the next boat back to Japan. We dont need that cheap Jap junk here! It will never be any good I'm telling ya. Never. Now, Buco helmets! There's a brand that's going to be here forever!
sniff6
Be nice i am
sniff6
Be nice i am
Best Dog Show Photo, 2016:
Dogs! Socks!
[video]https://www.facebook.com/Psychostick/videos/10152338639756364/[/video]
[video]https://www.facebook.com/Psychostick/videos/10152338639756364/[/video]
Too bad I have french drains...
sniff6
Be nice i am
sniff6
Be nice i am
- Joined
- Oct 5, 2007
- Messages
- 4,886
- Reaction score
- 113
- Points
- 63
- Location
- Alkmaar Netherlands
Well it didn't make me laugh, but it made me smile inspiration travel quote | Piki-Piki overland blog
So I was actually reading the "Official Rules" of a contest Hertz & Popular Mechanics are holding and in the section for "Winner Selection" it states: "Drawing will be conducted by Popular Mechanic0073, whose decisions are final. Odds of winning will depend upon the total number of eligible entries received. In the event Canadians are eligible to enter as specified in the Eligibility paragraph below, and if there is a Canadian Winner, the Winner will be required to correctly answer a mathematical skill testing question as a condition of receiving the prize." WTF????
sniff6
Be nice i am
raja777m
Ride like you own it..!
https://media.giphy.com/media/DinjKI4zB8CA0/giphy-downsized-large.gif
Most funny part is the powerkick she gave and he slid across the room, lol.
Most funny part is the powerkick she gave and he slid across the room, lol.