Things My Ol' Dad Said: KILL THE DOG

My ol' Dad drummed this hard into my head before I started driving. All of my experience had been on racetracks and dogs don't run into the road out there.

His specific word was KILL THE DOG because swerving means you may kill a human. It was shocking to hear from him but he was right and I've been lucky since that circumstance has never arisen.

I drive extremely fast when it's warranted to do so but real go-fasters will never abide injuring civilians when we go out motoring.

We don't jump from lane to lane to claim some millisecond advantage over other drivers, we don't speed in residential areas, we don't drink and drive, etc, etc ... but ... do stay out of the fast lane on the Autobahn.  We will be driving balls to the walls there.

Frasers, almost unanimously, love speed.  Sure there's adrenalin and all kinds of chemical whizbang happening in your body from it but there's the immense satisfaction of going out as fast as something can possibly go and having the confidence in your skill to get there and get back without getting dead.  It's also having the confidence to know how far your skill goes and don't exceed that by too much or you will definitely get dead.

Bikers call it 'wind in the face' and part of that is the freedom of the open road but part of it also is taking a big iron beast and letting her run as hard as she wants to go.  The partnership with the machine is hearing the cylinders, the valves, the sound of the tires, the glorious sound of those pipes at high revs, and the feel of how she rides.  All of that is poetic and beautiful ... but ... it's still about wind in the face, coming at you like a Texas Tornado.  It's raw, it's dangerous, and it's sooooooo dayum good.

People call it thrill-seeking but an orgasm is a thrill.  It sure is a great thrill but it doesn't last very long and then there's the (sob) post-coitus tristesse (i.e. is that all there is).  Then there's the oh-so-Fellini existential dilemma and oh.fuck.that.

There is none of the post-coitus bulllllshit with speed because you stay out there as long as you have the skill for it.

(Ed:  riding big bikes is better than sex?)

Just about anything except watching television is better than sex, matey ... but ... we sure do love that thrill, don't we.  There's nothing which approaches that one even if it doesn't last very long (larfs).

(Ed:  why is watching television not better than sex then?)

Because it only makes you want to have sex or that's some seriously shit television you're watching.

(Ed:  holy shit ... you aren't really going to offer sex advice, are you?)

Well ... since you asked ...

Here's some sex advice from Richard Pryor, "If she ain't sleepin after you're done, mister, you got some more fuckin' to do."

So, how about that one, matey?

(Ed:  that's it??)

Don't be bitchin' now.  That's the best I've got and, wtf, it's free.

Maybe call up Doctor Ruth because she gives all kinds of sex advice and don't be laughing at her having so much fun with sex.  She survived a NAZI concentration camp so we say, you go, girl.  You fuck as much as you possibly can and enjoy the living hell out of it!