Species Name: Obnoxiousius Suckmyballsicus
They’re loud, obnoxious, and typically driven by douchebags. The only person who ever looked cool on a motorcycle was Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. But his coolness was not due to the fact that he was on the bike but rather that he jumped a fucking fence on it to escape from the Nazis. That’s fucking cool. Now, motorcycle drivers are synonmous with what they use to keep their bikes in full functioning order…tool bags. When I started this blog, I thinned Hummer drivers from the herd, but they pale in comparison to motorcycle drivers. Hummer drivers are gas guzzling whores, but motorcycle drivers are blatant attention whores. Answer me this, when some white trash peckerwood rides by revving his chopper at ear piercing levels, have you ever said to your friends, “Wow! That guy’s so fucking cool!”? No, of course not. Instead you wipe the blood dripping from your ear canals and say, “Wow! That piece of shit must have the littlest dick on the planet!”
In a world where motorcycles didn’t exist to be the preferred mode of transportation for dbags:
- We wouldn’t have to endure those insulting amber alerts that read, “Share the Road. Look Twice for Motorcyclists.” Fuck that. If those assholes want to weave in and out of traffic like goddamn vehicular ninjas, they need to be willing to play a little Russian roulette with their lives.
- There would be a whole helluva lot less deaths in the world from dipshits not understanding that when you crash into anything going 60 mph on a two-wheeled death trap, you’re gonna die.
- Vespa drivers might actually be considered cool, but probably not.
- There would a plethora of open parking spots instead of 1/8th of the spot being taken up by a fucking Ducati.
- That poor man’s Hulk Hogan wouldn’t have gotten his own TV show making custom bikes for guys who bang their cousins.
- Jesse James would still be a fucking prick.
The difference between the guys in Easy Rider and the motorcyclists of today, is that the guys in Easy Rider had purpose to their lives. It was two guys chasing the American dream. The closest thing the motorcyclists of today get to that sense of purpose is by spending all the money they earn selling meth at their local biker bar on Pabst Blue Ribbon, sharing stories about their tattoo’s, before having to rush home to catch the newest episode of “Sons of Anarchy.” There’s a reason why these dickholes ride around in “gangs,” because they know that if they were riding solo, they’d be subject to routine ass beatings for being unable to contribute anything useful to society.
But one has to have dreams right?