hot 'n' wet.

uh-huh.
hot and wet.
that's the answer to a very obvious question.
what?
yeah. it IS obvious, huh?
and you guessed it right, kids-
i'm talking about the crotches of bikeblasters in leather pants.
it's supposed to be 90 degrees or some sh!t today,
and the humidity index is bangin' right off the meter,
with environmental armpit atmospheric moisture content at an all-time high.
any higher, and it'd be raining...again.
i don't think it even matters that most chaps have no flaps,
for you A*-bits i mean,
i think that the thigh-meat cow-carcasses still make your minky huevos
fester in a self-basting butt-gravy of swampy syrup.
that's a hard style, my ninjas.
it's the big weekend for the laconia bike rally.
y'all may/may not be missing out-
as it is,
6:30 a.m. had skeedaddlers scootin' past the mountains,
making good time towards their own good times.
loud pipes save lives.
i said it before, and not for the last time do i repeat myself now.
y'know what else they do?
they also wake sleepy duders right up,
with a resounding ricochet of those same scenic mountains.
nice.
neither urban nor urbane,
these 'necktards are making sure that anything
that might've been cool about motorcycles
is lost in a haze of sweaty pants and bronx cheer braying.
somehow,
they've managed to redefine space and time;
half the wheels, but twice the gay,
every single second of the day.
...and that's a lot.
***********
'the road'.
y'know it?
it's a book.
no, not jack kerouac.
c'mon.
i'm talking about something good.
the book/movie about a father and son,
traveling through the post-apocalyptic world
of cannibal rapers and ash and starvation?
have you read/seen 'em?
if not,
you're F*ing up.
get it.
own it.
you need it.
you need both, actually.
do it.
***********
it's the last day of school for my kids.
it's the last weekend of spring.
it's almost father's day.
it's almost summer.
there's not a lot of IS happening.
ends, for sure,
and not-quites, too.
if the best thisday has to offer is bikes, brews, and blasting,
well,
then i'm ready, already,
for some loud fresh hardness.
all the worthy warriors are on the east coast, now.
i can feel the tremors.
must be the volume.
loud pipes save lives, ninjas;
never quiet, never soft.....