No. I am talking about the middle aged, tiny-dicked wankers with mutton-dressed-as-lamb wives and girlfriends who buy a fucking Harley and spend Saturday afternoons polishing it with chamois leather until they can see their pasty, asinine little faces in their chrome exhaust pipes, all the better to straddle it in cheap leather trousers and drive it up and down the otherwise quiet country road where we live on Sunday afternoons.
When the weather's good, one drives past every five minutes or so. They come here because it's pretty and the roads are nice: they go up and down and all around (which is why squads of silent cyclists also come out here at weekends), and there are apple trees and lambs and houses that you would imagine if you thought of a Canadian house; sort of like this, but without the snow:
I don't hate them for buying a Harley - if they want to piss their money up the wall on a bit of machinery that announces to the world that they're an arsehole, that's their look-out: I hate them because they're selfish.
It's quiet here, and people live here. That's obvious, because there are a lot of houses not too far back form the road (look at the house above: you don't want to be digging yourself out of too much of that every morning in the winter). But do you know what these fuckers do? Most of them remove their muffler(s) so that their bike makes as much noise as possible. Even better, when they're putting aside the money they've earned being a middle-manager in a suburb somewhere to support their Harley-hobby, they put aside a wodge to pay for the fines that they'll get for having removed them.
Bref (as they say in some French-speaking countries), they consciously configure their bike to make as much noise as possible. They then get on it and drive it around where people live, on Sunday afternoons, making as much noise as possible. And worse, some of them have music: I was driven inside to write this post by a gigantic Harley pumping out "Burn Baby Burn" at top volume. I could deal (just) with the noise if I didn't know that it was being generated on purpose, but what makes me so cross (and makes me think about invisible wires suspended across the road, pellet guns, weeing in their soup, etc) is the fact that they don't give a shit about anyone else.
I once asked the French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist, a.k.a my 'husband', what he would do if he won the lottery. "I would buy all the motorbikes in the world, make a big pile out of them, and then set them on fire". I disagreed for a while, thinking that the money might be better spent on sweets, crisps and hats, but as time passes and the days become warmer, I have to say I am agreeing with him!!!
Pip pip!
NWM
12 comments:
I hear ya, NWM! I live in a peaceful beachside community whose main street runs along the waterfront. This street is packed with restaurants, every single one with patio dining in the summer. Unfortunately, you cannot really sit out there and enjoy your meal in the summer because of the effing Harleys cruising back and forth, back and forth along the road. In packs yet. I too would destroy all noisy Harleys if I could!
Until recently, I thought there was something wrong with those motorcycles that make really loud noises, and then I found out they DO IT ON PURPOSE?!?!? Not cool.
Sounds really really annoying and if you went for the taut-wire across the high-road option there's surely not a jury in the land that would convict you. Although having said that I suppose High Court Judges belong to the very demographic who flock to the Harley showrooms on their days off in the throes of mid-life crisis. Still it could be worse, my Aunt and family live on a main road in the Isle of Man and they are more or less imprisoned in their house for the whole of TT week by the very same selfish set of bastards.
I feel you. And I love your second paragraph. I read it out loud, twice, to my husband and 13 year old daughter. They think you are brilliant.
We have a couple of dipshits like that up the road from us. I feel like stringing fishing wire across the road so that when they drive past, they're decapitated. Cunts.
I have a big fuck off hangover today and so I'm in a bad mood. Can you tell?
Tell your husband that there is one less Ducatti for him to burn as my hubby just decapitated a roe deer with his and it's not looking purty no more.
Bike and deer all over the road. Pretty vile.
Still, not all bad, venison steaks and stew for the next 12 months.
Ali x
unbelievably - word verification is 'final'!
Recently I drove 2,000 feet up a mountain (well, and several miles as well, it wasn't directly STRAIGHT up 2,000 feet), climbed back a ways and sat in a loverly meadow to enjoy birds and greenness and coolth and general mountainy goodness and was subjected to a full hour of Harleys dinosaur-farting their way up the road and baaaack down again. I finally gave the whole thing up as a lost cause and toiled sadly home cursing the entire race and their miniature genitalia.
Yes, it is true, the only time (even normal) Harley sound is not annoying is when it is coming from between your own legs. Do not accept rides from any pasty-faced neighbors, in spite of how many times they may circle your street, BUT if, say, some friend's younger brother home-from-college should offer to let you ride "biscuit" , do try it, just once, for research :) .
Invisible wires suspended across the road? Pellet guns? You should be ashamed of yourself for wishing harm on another human being. Last I heard, this is a free country. I don't know how long you've been in your home but I'm sure motorcycles have been going up and down that road long before you moved in.
Because, clearly, I meant it literally.
Yes, there probably were people riding motorcyles down the road before I moved here. But then my house, and the houses around it, and the road that they were built on, and the village that the road runs through, were there before motorcycles were invented - and before the arseholes that routinely break the silence and peace of our weekends (and that of the cyclists that ride around here a lot) rode into town on their preposterous Harleys.
This guy is right on!
I've always been concerned whether people like me or not. My shrink told me to buy an open pipe Harley and relieve all doubt.
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