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My Love Affair with the Two-Wheeled Beast

My Love Affair with the Two-Wheeled Beast

This is a post about how I became infatuated with motorcycles. Big, fuck-off motorcycles, to be precise. Okay, so calling it a love affair is probably a bit over-the-top seeing as I’ve never ridden one (unless you count a short Vespa ride through the backstreets of Naples with my uncle when I was about 10, during which I thought I was going to die several times. But that’s another story), but that’s the only way I can describe it. I’m only 16, so it isn’t exactly legal for me to ride them, which is a fact that frustrates me endlessly. I will, as soon as I’m old enough and have the funds, be purchasing a Harley Davidson Sportster 48.
So I first fell in love when I was about 12. My dad owns an MOT garage in a dodgy industrial area, and I go some Saturdays to sweep up, make coffee and learn a few tricks of the trade. One day, I walk into the workshop after a McDonalds run, and see a bulky, leather clad 60-something year old. I could see tatoos running up his neck, and all the way down his arm when he took his jacket off. You know tattoos aren’t supposed to look good on older people? He proved that statement wrong by looking like what can only be described as a badass. Classic biker. Swept back white hair, white goatee. A fat cuban cigar hanging out of his mouth. He was a Hell’s Angel, I can’t quite remember where from but he must have been from a Chapter around Grantham. I remember his bike being a V-Rod of some kind, maybe a Muscle (the bike in the picture). I can’t actually remember what was wrong with it, I just remember sitting on a foot-ladder with a milkshake and staring at it. Just staring. It was beautiful. There was something so brutally perfect about it that just encaptured me, and it’s kept me that way ever since.
Now, nobody in my family rides. My Grandad used to when he was young, but cursed the things since he did his back in to the day he died. Every time I mention anything about them to any member of my family, mother, father, uncle, aunt, grandmother, sister, whoever, I’m showered with stories of decapitation, paralysis, fatal injury, de-gloving (where your skin is ripped from one of your limbs in one clean slice), lifelong scarring and being crushed by trucks. Of course, most of these are true, or at least have probably happened at one point or another to someone. But that doesn’t really seem to phase me. It’s like their perfection blocks out all rational fear. It’s a lonely love, my friends seem to show much disinterest, which is why I want to meet as many bikers as I can on here.
So hopefully you were interested, and one day you’ll see me roaring around the country on a Harley.

She would so kill me if she knew I was posting this but oh well

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She is actually the most adorable person in existence. I’m such a soppy bastard, I don’t do this a lot I promise.

The Greatest Goal I have Ever Witnessed

The Greatest Goal I have Ever Witnessed

This was the moment George Boyd of Peterborough United (my team), struck the shot that procured the greatest goal I have ever been lucky enough to witness in person. I will always have happy memories of the seconds following this moment. Video in the link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNTd1MgJgVg

November 28, 2012 – Pitch and Toss

Skyheartphotography One Picture a Day Project

IF – by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;

If you…

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Dream Bike

Dream Bike

I will have this bike if I have to kill someone. Harley Davidson Sportster 48, absolute beauty.