I don't know what is up with this blog. Why the text only begins a page down from the header. That is lame. Everything is lame. DSL is the fucking lamest thing out there. Or else the service I have is just particularly unsatisfying. It goes in and out all the time. For days at a time. I'll check my messages at night, and O whoops- page won't load. O never mind the messages. I don't want to deal with these bastards. Have to call them. Voice-activated response system. The worst thing of all is this. Whenever I call SBC internet services, the DSL starts working again. While I'm on the phone. When i first pick up there's lots of DSL hiss and crackle. Those filters don't work for shit. And I go through all the menus, and then then the hissing subsides, and my laptop computer starts farting and clicking again. And then the home page loads. I guess that's better than not being able to log on at all. It's depressing to hear oneself rail against the big instituions. You end up sounding like Willy Loman, complaining about the fridge being on the Fritz.

I'm sad to be parting with my bike. It's so hard. I don't know how I'll get around without it. I'm thinking I'll start riding the ten-speed around, for the close trips. But I'm going to sure miss that 1000 twin. It's a perfectly suited machine to LA. It was the skinniest motorcycle I could find for splitting-lanes. It can get through anything. And like I said in the ad. It's big and heavy and sure-footed. I love making slow turns at intersections and laying the bike down low, at low speed. I could get it at such an extreme lean. And then shoot out quick. Pop the front wheel up. So fucking rad.

Well. Some other guy will get it I suppose. And maybe it will teach him what it taught me. The superhawk is for mature audiences only. It's an extremely powerful bike. Hi-ass performance. My friend Kyle once said it was like I had a Ferrari. And I pushed it to the limit. And then I learned to cool off, and not ride so fast and aggressively. When you first start out riding a bike, it can make you really really angry. A couple of close calls with distracted drivers, or worst still malicious ones, and you start take a mad max approach. But that's not the way. It's the way to the cemetery. And not much else. I had to learn to relate to the others drivers. Not come up on people too quick in traffic. I make a big show of hand signalling. I even went out and bought a flip-front helmet, so as to have interaction with drivers around me at red lights. It's all about slowing down, cooling out. Looking way ahead down the road, and seeing trouble long ways off. Taking fewer chances. Having a close call and learning from it. I finally got it. I love riding now. I no longer have frightening and negative experineces. It's like heaven.

That's why I'm selling. Cash out while I got a bunch of chips on the table. It just has to go. I don't want to think about it anymore. About the maintenamce schedule. the fucking tire pressure. Paying the insurance. And the other thing is. It's too badass. Too young. Too Guido. Too weird.

It's not gentlemanly to ride a rice rocket. It makes your balls too big. I'm tired of being that guy.