i hate teenagers
I was out riding last night.
Got clipped by some fucking punk ass little bitches while I was going around a curve. Little lowered souped up Honda or something, comes right up on my ass and clips me when he realizes I'm not going at least 120 and he wants to go around me, looking into the sun, on a turn.
Don't remember much except for feeling the bike jarr hard and then the tires on the asphalt, I slid off the road and made it about thirty feet down an embankment before I came to a stop. My cell phone is trashed, the jeans I had on are pretty much done for, but my jacket's alright. My helmet has a nice chip in it from where I hit the asphalt when I laid her down and the bike's back end is pretty fucked.
I think I passed out after I turned the bike off. I was out there off the road for a good four, five hours, until the guys hunted me down and came and got me.
I'm okay. A little shaken I will admit, and my wife isn't too happy with me at the moment, but I'm just hopping around the house on a twisted ankle -- thankfully it was my bad leg -- and cursing punk asses who think that because they've got daddy's money and a hot car they can do what they want.
But I'm not concerned with myself, or even the bike right now. I don't know how to make my wife happy.
And that hurts more than any accident or injury.
Got clipped by some fucking punk ass little bitches while I was going around a curve. Little lowered souped up Honda or something, comes right up on my ass and clips me when he realizes I'm not going at least 120 and he wants to go around me, looking into the sun, on a turn.
Don't remember much except for feeling the bike jarr hard and then the tires on the asphalt, I slid off the road and made it about thirty feet down an embankment before I came to a stop. My cell phone is trashed, the jeans I had on are pretty much done for, but my jacket's alright. My helmet has a nice chip in it from where I hit the asphalt when I laid her down and the bike's back end is pretty fucked.
I think I passed out after I turned the bike off. I was out there off the road for a good four, five hours, until the guys hunted me down and came and got me.
I'm okay. A little shaken I will admit, and my wife isn't too happy with me at the moment, but I'm just hopping around the house on a twisted ankle -- thankfully it was my bad leg -- and cursing punk asses who think that because they've got daddy's money and a hot car they can do what they want.
But I'm not concerned with myself, or even the bike right now. I don't know how to make my wife happy.
And that hurts more than any accident or injury.