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Save the dogs
No use rewriting what was already there. For the most part I just copied an pasted.
Please help spread the word, and do your part.
Change (in the life of animals) we can all participate in.
Please tell ten friends to tell ten today!
The Animal Rescue Site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily to meet their quota of getting free food donated every day to abused and neglected animals.
It takes less than a minute (How about 20 seconds) to go to their site and click on the purple box "Click here to give" for free. This doesn't cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate food to abandoned or neglected animals in exchange for advertising.
Here's the web site! Pass it along to people you know.
http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/
PLEASE TELL 10 FRIENDS !!!
Put what ever it is you may be drinking down before reading this.
This is from newshound Dave Barry's colonoscopy journal:
I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis . Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'
I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America 's enemies.
I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon.
The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose, watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off
your roof, you may experience contact with the ground.
MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep , at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.
After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough.
At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked.
Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this is, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.
When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' had to be the least appropriate.
'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than a decade. If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like.
I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, ABBA was yelling 'Dancing Queen, feel the beat of the tambourine,' and the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that It was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Dave Barry is a Pulitzer Prize-winning humor columnist for the Miami Herald.
On the subject of Colonoscopies...
Colonoscopies are no joke, but these comments during the exam were quite humorous.... A physician claimed that the following are actual comments made by his patients (predominately male) while he was performing their colonoscopies:
1. 'Take it easy, Doc. You're boldly going where no man has gone before!
2. 'Find Amelia Earhart yet?'
3. 'Can you hear me NOW?'
4. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'
5. 'You know, in Arkansas , we're now legally married.'
6. 'Any sign of the trapped miners, Chief?'
7. 'You put your left hand in, you take your left hand out...'
8. 'Hey! Now I know how a Muppet feels!'
9. 'If your hand doesn't fit, you must quit!
10. 'Hey Doc, let me know if you find my dignity.'
11. 'You used to be an executive at Enron, didn't you?'
12. 'God, now I know why I am not gay.'
And the best one of all.
13. 'Could you write a note for my wife saying that my head is not up there?'
Tires, those round rubber things that suck the money right out from underneath of ya.
I use the Dunlop Harley factory tires. I'm sick of putting on new rubber so often. I'm switching to Metzler this time to try it out, based on a recommendation by a fellow rider, who swears that they aren't quite as soft, and they get more life out of them than the Dunlops.
I've recently had another one of my friends tell me they thought the Metzlers were even softer than the Dunlops, and won't last as long. He said I'm going to be disappointed. Since I already paid for them, and had the shop special order them in for me, I can only hope he's wrong.
Anyone know who's right? Or does anyone else have any other suggestions?
I'm willing to try darn near anything at this point. I don't let my back end loose and do burnouts deliberately, but the rear end does let loose from time to time on wet pavement, or over those wide painted white squares at intersections, etc. Noting this, I would not expect to have to replace tires as often as I do, and It's beginning to suck, and piss me off.
Any comments or suggestions from the peanut gallery would be most appreciated.
Help!
2.5 really damn ass cold miles
Now mind you in Celsius Zero is Freezing cold (Literally). But in Fahrenheit Zero is 31 degrees below freezing, and then lets add some windchill factor just for kicks. I think topped out at about 40 MPH and got a wee bit cold.
I only wore my half shell with a mask and shades. The exposed area around the eyes was screaming for me to stop. I trudged on. I want that new tire on before it's riding time dammit! The shop had an opening, and my friend the owner of the shop was telling me it was picking up, and if I did not get my bike in quick, I'd be in line waiting come springtime to have the work done, and missing out on riding time.
I should have listened to my wife ages ago when she hounded me to get it in before the trailer was buried in snow in the back yard, but I wanted to milk out every last day of riding, and now I had to pay for my greed. I asked to use several friends and family's covered trailers, but all had the same story as me, or else they were full of shit. (The trailers that is, not my friends or family) Well maybe both. Who knows.
Oh well, such is life. My bike's at the shop now, and will be ready for me come springtime. I'll be ready to roll then.
2008 collection of mailboxes that I've photographed while riding.
I know, it sounds silly, but when you ride, you are "on the road" "in the wind", and out in the open. Your senses heighten, and you begin to notice "everything". You see things many times missed by the casual passerby in a car. That to me is one of the greatest joys of riding a motorcycle.
I've taken the time to create a collection of some of the more memorable mailboxes that I've ridden by while on my two wheeled travels. Unfortunately, some of my favorites I've had to pass by, due to either not having a camera, or riding with a group, etc.
Here are some of the ones that I've captured when not riding in a group, and having someone wonder why the hell we all have to stop riding so Mwa can take a picture of a damn mailbox.
For those of you who know me, by now, you know I'm artsy fartsy, so this kind of shit is right up my ally. How could I not notice this great little piece of Americana? I'm quite certain I'm not the only biker who notices these. Hopefully anyway, or I guess that makes me quite kooky. Maybe the fact that I actually took the time to make a photo collection of them for the blog is kooky. I'll give you that.
Anyway...
I hope you enjoy my collection as much as I did collecting it.
We have a patriotic mail box.
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We have sculpture in stainless steel.
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We have sports lovers.
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We have the numbers painted nicely, or differently theme.
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We've got the John Deere theme.
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Love this one with the little farmer in the tractor!
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We've got competition for John Deere with Case Tractors.
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Then there's pigs and dogs.
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And a bit of racing.
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Don't know why, rust and all, I particularly liked this flamed mailbox.
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Nice scallops.
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One of my favorites... Air mail.
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This last one, I borrowed from a fellow blogger Ann Nelson.
Redneck humor has been going rampant around the biker blogs lately.
You might be a Redneck...
if'n yer local drag strip looks anythn like this un here.
Biker joke
Realizing that this was not the most riveting subject, the professor
decided to lighten the mood slightly.
He pointed to a young woman in the front row and said,
"Do you know what your ass hole is doing while you're having an orgasm?"
She replied, "Probably at a biker bar hanging out with his buddies."
The professor laughed so hard he could not continue with the class.
How tequilla really works
Warning TOTALLY NOT POLLITICALLY CORRECT
The fact is people need to...
A:), not just assume things about other people,
and
B:), just need to LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP!
I made some funny's in his comments. Thankfully, I've gotten no flack for it. I guess you need to know who's in company, and realize that no matter what you do or say, you will never make everyone happy. Although I do do my best.
So, let me preface this by saying I am not racist. "I
Today on the radio, I heard a really funny comedian.
I'm going to share his wit, as best as possible without offending anyone. (Hopefully)
"There are a lot of people out there who find the mere though of homosexual sex as dirty, disgusting, and perverted. I dunno, I think Heterosexual sex is dirty, disgusting, and perverted. At least it's supposed to be.
If you don't wake up in the morning embarrassed, and ashamed, then you didn't do it right!"
HaHaHaHaHaHaHa
Rumor has it....
Now mind you, I tried to check this out on Snopes.com to see if there was any validity to this, but they had nothing, so for now, I'll have to believe it is so.
Rumor has it that Honda is supposedly releasing a factory "Fury Chopper".
Although I will always be partial towards Harley Davidson, I gotta admit this is not a bad lookin mota scoota for around $20K. U.S.
For more details, See....
http://news.motorbiker.org/blogs.nsf/dx/official-honda-fury-motorcycle-photo-leaked.htm
and see also....
http://hellforleathermagazine.com/2009/01/honda-fury.html
Women are so much better at financial planning than men.
Dan was a single guy working in the family business that his father owns.
When he found out he was going to inherit a fortune when his sickly father died, he decided he needed a wife with which to share his fortune.
One evening at a company investment meeting he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her natural beauty took his breath away.
'I may look like just an ordinary man,' he said to her, but in just a few years, my father will die, and I'll inherit $65 million.'
Impressed, the woman obtained his business card and three days later, she became his stepmother.
Women are so much better at financial planning than men.
"Motorcycle Wisdom"
Someone took the time to put together some great motorcycle sayings.
Some we already know, some, maybe not.
Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.
Life may begin at 30, but it doesn't get real interesting until about 70 mph.
You start the game of life with a full pot of luck and an empty pot of experience. The object is to fill the pot of experience before you empty the pot of luck.
If you wait, all that happens is that you get older.
Saddlebags can never hold everything you want, but they CAN hold everything you need.
The only good view of a thunderstorm is in your rear view mirror.
Don't ride so late into the night that you sleep through the sunrise.
Sometimes it takes a whole tank of fuel before you can think straight.
Never hesitate to ride past the last street light at the edge of town.
Never do less than forty miles before breakfast.
One bike on the road is worth two in the garage.
Young riders pick a destination and go. Old riders pick a direction and go.
Whatever it is, it's better to do it in the wind.
Two-lane blacktop isn't a highway, it's an attitude.
People are like motorcycles; each is customized a bit differently.
The best alarm clock is sunshine on chrome.
A friend is someone who'll get out of bed at 2 am to drive his pickup to the middle of nowhere to get you when you're broken down.
Catching a yellow jacket in your shirt at 70 mph can double your vocabulary.
If you want to get somewhere before sundown, you can't stop at every tavern.
There's something ugly about a NEW bike on a trailer.
A long ride can clear your mind, restore your faith and use up a lot of fuel.
If you can't get it going with bungee cords, wire and electrician's tape, it's serious.
Never try to race an old geezer, he may have one more gear than you.
Bikes parked out front mean good chicken-fried steak inside.
You can forget what you do for a living when your knees are in the breeze.
Only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out the car window.
There are two types of people in this world;
people who ride motorcycles and people who wish they could.
Leave me a comment, and let me know that you stopped by!
It's DELURKING Day!
For those that stop by my blog, and don't regularly comment, It's time for you to come clean, and come out of that dark corner that you've been lurking in.
Even if your comment only says Hi, I was here, let me know that you visit. I'd love to hear from you! It's always interesting to know who my readers are.
Thanks for stopping by!
From "The Who"....
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
I woke up in a Soho doorway
A policeman knew my name
He said "You can go sleep at home tonight
If you can get up and walk away"
I staggered back to the underground
And the breeze blew back my hair
I remember throwin' punches around
And preachin' from my chair
chorus:
Well, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
Tell me, who the fuck are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
'Cause I really wanna know (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
I took the tube back out of town
Back to the Rollin' Pin
I felt a little like a dying clown
With a streak of Rin Tin Tin
I stretched back and I hiccupped
And looked back on my busy day
Eleven hours in the Tin Pan
God, there's got to be another way
Who are you?
Ooh wa ooh wa ooh wa ooh wa ...
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
(chorus)
I know there's a place you walked
Where love falls from the trees
My heart is like a broken cup
I only feel right on my knees
I spit out like a sewer hole
Yet still recieve your kiss
How can I measure up to anyone now
After such a love as this?
(chorus)
Who wins????
Doug said....
"In his regular job as a kiddie toy he was just "Mr. Potato Head" but on the weekends he was a bad ass biker who was known only as "Spud.""
Way to go Doug!
Yeah!
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
So you've got to be wonderin where I'm goin with all this huh?
Dream... I never used to.... not since I was a child. No one ever believed me either when discussing dreams, and I'd say "I don't dream." They'd say, "Yes you do, everyone dreams. You just don't remember them." My sleep doctor stated that "It is indeed likely that I rarely, to never dreamt at all for the last 17 or so years due to not reaching R.E.M. sleep." You need to hit R.E.M. to dream. This is where your body does all of the deep recovery therapy, and your mind just lets go.
I now dream. I have fanciful dreams. I dream of flying, like I did as a child. Not flying an airplane, or a hang glider, me actually flying. I guess this is why I love riding motorcycles so much. It's the closest thing I've found in my life to this euphoric feeling of flying where you are the one in complete control.
I love dreaming. I love riding. Dream on, Ride on!
Wish I had this.
This my friends is a snow mobile!
This would make winter a lot more entertaining, and lessen the woes of parking the motorcycle for the season.
How not to... You get the picture.
There are a lot of cops driving the same car as I drive around here. I could easily be misconstrued as an under cover cop. Shortly, (moments after) I took these two photos, this guy pulled over, and I passed. I'm not sure if he pulled over to fix the motorcycle's situation, or if he pulled over because the flashes from my digital camera may have looked like an undercover trying to pull him over.
Can't stop thinking about this one. That thought came to my mind, and I sure hope that was not the case. Guess I'd better be careful taking pictures like these in the future.