Motorcycle update

After a total of 3 hours of practice, I am now permitted to drive my motorcycle to and from the beach. Formerly, the routine was that I followed pops down and then he let me ride around the parking lot. But today I managed to get the bike into third gear, and even did a whopping 40 mph for a little bit. And so far I still haven't crashed (or killed myself or lost a limb or become paralyzed). I executed some decent figure eights, too. All in all, I'm taking to the bike much faster than I anticipated.

My next major areas of practice are better shifting, and better control of the bike around corners while at speed (ie, slowing down in time to begin a turn (as one should not brake while turning) and shifting up and down on either side of the turning process). I also need to get sunglasses right quick, since at 4 o'clock the sun is at an angle that makes riding west impossible.

And I need a protective jacket and pants and boots, since going down at 40+ mph will suck bad enough without having to worry about road rash (and worse). On my regular bikety bike, I regularly do over 20 mph, and break 30 when there's a nice hill, and I know that if I were to crash at those speeds it would suck but be generally survivable. Cyclists deal with that all the time. But there was something about watching my speedometer click up to 40 today that made me realize I was entering a whole new level of pain should I crash at that speed. (At the same time, I saw a ton of people out riding today in very non-riderly clothes. I wonder if they're dumb or if I'm paranoid.)

I'll also need to get new rearview mirrors, as the ones I have now are useless. And I'll probably buy a windshield sooner than I'd originally expected.

Motorcycling is about to become a very expensive part of my life.

It's worth it, though. The bike is such a chick magnet.

These are the real banes of my existence

Ignore for a moment (or don't) that this post at Absorbascon starts out being about comics; it is a perfect analysis of the human condition and the role of art therein.

Now go fight some crime.

Anecdotes

Special thanks to special people for the anecdotes below. Heart.

Americans remain thankless for being Americans:

Guy behind me in line, I swear to God:

"I want a coke."

"Oh, well sir the Pepsi Fountain is right over ther--"

"Fuck Pepsi, Pepsi gives people AIDS. I want coke."

"Well, they uh... have Mountain De---"

"Same shit, different color."

I think he wound up getting some Dr. Pepper, going outside, pouring it into the flowers before tossing the cup into the trash.

And I'm reminded why I hate America, and why we deserve a good ass-whipping and to be downgraded to a 3rd world country in a state of emergency for a good few months. So that we be goddamn thankful for this shit we have. Pepsi, Coke, BFD --the kids in Africa who do have AIDS don't get to choose between two different sugar waters because they don't get to down enough clean water as it is in order to counter balance the poison we pump into ourselves --- PEPSI OR COKE.

I'm so mad at myself right now for not jumping all over him. I hope he never comes to my eating spot again.


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AND: "to make you hate Red Bull even more..."

Red Bull buys MetroStars, renames team

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Interesting that these are both beverage related. I wonder if what we drink is making us stupider.

Moto Movies

In honor of the new motorcycle, I've bumped Tron (fun!) and Torque (cheese!) to the top of my NetFlix que. I suppose I should add Easy Rider (old school!) to the list also, but somehow that feels like I'd be taking myself too seriously.

Stanford

Got the rejection letter from Stanford today. Kinda pissed, but not surprised. I was hoping to at least be accepted there even if I might not have been able to afford it in the end. This also gives me serious doubts about whether or not I'll get into Harvard. And since I foolishly missed the application deadline for Hawaii, I will most likely wind up at Hofstra. Which isn't bad, though I really really really wanted to get the fuck off Long Island.

Anyway, when I originally applied to Stanford, I felt it was a shot in the dark mostly because I was worried I'd be a crappy teacher. But after working at Huntington Learning Center for a while, and getting great reviews from students and their parents (rumor has it that I'm one of the most-requested tutors), I can honestly say it's Stanford's loss for not taking me. And I'm not one of those people who says stuff like that just as a way of cheering himself up. I'm too pessimistic for that kind of mind trick to work on me.

So now I need to start re-mapping my potential future. Don't know where I'm going or how I'm getting there (other than by motorcycle, motherfucker!), but the future is like a small china doll perched precariously on a high shelf, waiting for a cat to knock it off. What does that simile mean? I don't know.

Motorcycle!

It just arrived and is in my garage and I'm going right now for my first lesson on it! Psyched!

If I can dig up a working digital camera I'll post pics later. In the mean time you can look here, though it looks much nicer in person.

Keep your fingers crossed that I don't die! (Or that I do die if you don't like me. I'm good either way.)

Open Letter to: Red Bull

Dear Red Bull USA,

I am writing to let you know that your commercials are so bad I refuse to buy your product until you change them. I am also starting the TV Watchers Against Suck-Bag Commercials non-profit activism group to organize a nation-wide boycott of your product until our demands for non-sucky commercials are met.

Sincerely,
Mustapha Mond

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What commercials do you hate?