Post a picture.....any picture...part deux...

Not to mention Beat The Meatles

Brings back memories! My first kit was a short wave receiver. I was 12. My uncle helped me.

SCompRacer wrote: »

I wasn't sure so I googled "Kitchen Hand" and found it's a real job. Just a poorly done sign....lol

As long as you don't add + Dahmer, then you'll get even more messed up stuff

You've heard of Mountain dew, but how about ......

https://priceonomics.com/the-statistical-dominance-of-dr-seuss/

Our main level has 14 foot ceilings. When Jasper was alive, if he saw a spider at the ceiling, he would scream until I got a long duster and knocked it down for him. He had a thing for eating spiders. When he was young, he would just grab them up with his tongue. One must have bit his tongue as he made a sound and he spit it out and smacked it. After that he always gave them a whack with his front paw then ate them.

A longtime friend stopped by last week for lunch whilst en route to a car show in VT.
He was in his 1990 Miata.
PS I respectfully request that you not bust my chops about the crabgrass infestation in the parking pad this year.

bcwsrt wrote: »

LMAO, I'd have to use my leg going from my hip to my ankle and scale it way down on my horrific crash in 80 when I was a 20 year old rebellious military guy. I'll even scale down the story.

After regaining consciousness from a man asking me if I was okay and saying that seeing a motorcycle laying on railroad tracks looked odd to him, I noticed the sun had gone considerably down from when I was awake and on my bike.

Laying in a ditch below the RR tracks I see my full-face helmet by the side of the road, shield busted out. My gauntlet gloves off and close by.

I roll to one side and grab my belt buckle then roll to the other side and grab my wallet, my jeans were blown apart at the seams and kind of hung on me like an oversized kilt, as was my leather jacket.

Just when I was thinking this was all very odd, the cop shows up and I stand for the first time, a little stiff and a slight limp but pretty much okay. We walk up to the bike and man, I've seen damage before but this was horrible, a beautiful 650 Maxim just got dropped into a steel compactor and became extinct. The cop actually said, "I don't think that's gonna fix" seeing the front tire hanging off the rim with the forks jammed into the cylinders smashing the inner two to dime thickness. The teardrop gas tank was smashed like a beer can...or worse...

So the cop turns me, gets my ID and asks the questions; Name, why are you here, what happened and how fast were you going.


"I'm here on TDY, I was coming down the road and got into the corner a little wide, got in the gravel and fell", "I was going about 55mph".....that was total BS, I was topped out at 140mph.

The cop asks the same questions again, I answer again and change my speed by 5mph. He asks a third time, same line of questions and I stop him and say, sir, you're asking the same questions over and over but my answers will not change.....to which the officer says, "I have one problem with your story, there IS no corner". I said of course there is, that's how I fell.

He asked me to show it to him, I pointed to the road, looked, looked again and only saw straight road and said, sir, I swear, there was a corner, that's how I fell. That was when I went into shock, staring in total disbelief, went back into the ditch where my bike seat was and leaned on it waiting for the ambulance that was called.

Final verdict, the cop followed the terrain that was disturbed from the bike, reaching the corner that was 285 feet away from the crash site (that's 15' short of a football field incase you were wondering).

I had a sprained back and ankle and a hole in my shin that took 11 stitches. I realized at that time, if I was going to die, it wasn't going to be on a motorcycle. After the ins money came in, I bought a CB900F super sport Honda. There's a difference between crazy and determined, so I've been told

Well, if you can lift ten thousand pounds, I'm not gonna mess with you.