Bill Sudokow


From:        Bill Sudokow
To:             blackecho
    You gotta be kidding me right??!?!
Date:          July 31, 2006

So cheesedick I have looked at your rantings and ravings concerning all things HD and I must admit I am impressed. You have done your homework (facts, dates, info on motors etc.., the irrigation pump story was pretty funny) and seem to have taken a real interest in putting down any/all things concerning Harley-Davidson. Ok, ok you hit the nail on the head with the posers who try to buy into the so-called HD lifestyle (if you want to call it that). I have ridden and owned 3 HD's over my 37 years and I think I might have 3 t-shirts (gifts) and a jacket (won it at a raffle). It does sicken me that the Moco (HD in case your pig brain can't comprehend..oh wait your little silly ass profile says you work in Technology..I though you were a cop?!?!?!) has put more effort into their clothing line versus their motor line. Here's the deal since you like somewhat classic American automobiles you might understand, HD's have personality that our American muscle cars used to have. Before all the computer bullshit came along there was a time when a guy/gal could still wrench on their transportation and take pride in the upkeep/maintenance of same. I have an 2005 Harley Superglide and I do all my own maintenance. Did I over pay? Nah, shopped around and found a poser who couldn't handle riding in the so-called winter of Atlanta. Do I mind not being able to keep up with your CBR? nah I got 3 kids and stopping fast is wayyyy harder than going fast. I like my bike, just as much as I liked the 3 imports I have owned in the past. The difference? Well it is simple asswipe, I can resale this HD in a few years and get almost what I paid. Can you say that? Why hell no you can't!!! Now I know you are getting antsy waiting for me to piss you off and give you some reason to call me inbred/retard/shallow gene pool. So here we go, why didn't you buy a real Trans Am? Is it because you wanted a plastic one to match your plastic bike? Or do you like disposable cars as much as disposable motorcycles? And another thing, nice looking photo on your silly-ass profile? You trying to look tough? Didn't work ass-clown. Your interests really got me laughing. Science Fiction? Ok Dr. Spock or is it Obi-wan?Talk about people getting reeled in on bullshit, sci-fi is the leader in that category. How many times you seen Star Wars? I looked at some of the responses you had gotten from your profile. I think the ratio is about 8 to 1 GUYS TO GALS..So it is all coming clear, fast bike, psuedo Muscle Car, cheesy-little goatee beard, rants and plagarism of know non-conformists, wanna be cop (technology?!?!?! that is what you list as occupation!!! Your profile remember?), I think the Blackecho is in your head you wanna be Barney Fife. Is your one bullet in your pocket? Or is it up your ass vibrating you down the highway on your little 600. If you want to impress me you should have bought the CBR1100xx or whatever the model is, you know the Man's Crotch Rocket. Hey lay off HD it will be around long after your bike is a styrofoam coffee cup at the gay bar you and your Smokey and the Ass Bandit car are parked in front of. Later Cheesedick, oh yeah by the way come up to Double Vision Bar and Grill in Hiram, Ga (located on Hwy 6) in Hiram,Ga. Take I-20 out of Atlanta west and get off at Hwy 278, go 10-12 miles turn on Hwy120 and look for Hwy 6, turn left and then left into the parking lot. Just come in and park your Japscrap in front of the HD's and we will see whose ponytail you try to jerk-off. But I bet with all your web-posting you spend a lot of time jerking off now don't you?? Later Barney!!!!!



To which I replied


You gotta be kidding me right??!?!

No, Mr. Sudokow, I’m afraid not. If there’s any kidding being done here, it’s on your part and you’re only kidding yourself.

Honestly, I really can’t take anyone seriously who has an email address of “Patriot68.” “Pseudo-patriot68” or "flagslatheredretard68" would be a far more apt email name, I believe, especially given how you carry and present yourself in this format.  Normally I'd assume that the "68" was the year you were born (as you will admit to being 37 years old) but in hindsight, I think it is probably just the indicator of your IQ that you are required by law to display (in order to pre-warn anyone you email of the inbound mental retardation heading their way).

Facta non verba, Mr. Sudokow; it’s a Latin phrase meaning “deeds, not words.” You’re a patriot in words but not deeds, a sheep in wolf’s clothing and I will prove this. You say the right things without having to do the right things. It lets you sound right without having to run the risk of personal hardship and failure.  You’re not so much a “patriot” as you are a puppet, a living mouth piece, a blank slate upon which a truly humorous set of nonsensical beliefs has been installed over a natural born personality God wouldn’t have seen fit to give to a telemarketer. The fact that you actually voluntarily paid for this over-the-counter brainwashing only makes me further question your personal value to the human race. Like most of your artificial lifestyle, I find your email to be non-thought provoking and utterly predictable. In fact, I can summarize your entire email thusly:

“Hello, Mr. Shields. Even though I freely admit that you already have hard truth, accurate facts and actual history on your side in this debate, I nevertheless feel that I must try to defend my miserable life (and the rather poor choices that I have made thus far) in spite of the overwhelming intellectual superiority which you obviously possess. I will do so by using a valiant yet blatantly ignorant attempt to slide well known clichés past your seemingly impregnable guard (clichés, mind you, that you are already all too familiar with and clichés which you have previously put to death via your masterful wielding of the vorpal Sword of Truth many, many years ago).

I should forewarn you that I have the intellectual prowess of a stale Hostess Twinkie (and the accompanying reading comprehension level to match) so I hope you don't expect anything original or thought provoking from me.  As I work feverishly to refute your well written argument using store bought, pre-packaged false bravado, I will fail to post anything positive, offer any decisive counterpoint to your argument or present one shred of factual testimony in my miserable defense. Instead, I will choose to attack you personally using many staples from The Milwaukee Orthodoxy.

I will firmly state that I believe you are a wannabe poser cop with a very small penis (which I will state many times, by the way because I happen to like talking (and thinking) about the size of your penis … mmmmmm). Furthermore, you apparently enjoy riding an utter piece of Jap crap and you drive what I will refer to as a plastic car (even though it is solidly built out of metal, an American made classic, designed by an American company, built by hard working Americans, in an American factory, in an American city and has both solid American small block V8 muscle under the hood as well as a traditional rear wheel drive setup).  In short, when it comes to all things mechanical, I'm basically clueless but we'll touch on that in greater detail shortly.

I will further point out that you also like science fiction and Star Wars and I bet you like them a whole bunch which means that you're a gay idiot. Putting all of these obvious personal failures of yours together, I will hypothesize (incorrectly) that all of your interests and hobbies, the various makes and models of the vehicles which you own and operate and your penis size (or lack thereof) will in some strange way (which I will again utterly fail to explain) prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are in fact a flaming homosexual who likes to shove small objects up your ass and hang out all night in bars with other (gay) men.

I will freely admit to being a size queen with no knowledge whatsoever of anything mechanical or technological when I tell you that I don’t understand computers or digital engine management and control systems. I will chastise you for not buying a larger sport bike even when I fully understand that nothing that Harley currently makes or will be able to make in the years to come can keep up with your two year old Honda 600cc sport bike. I (foolishly) believe that when it comes to owning a motorcycle, it’s not really power or performance that is important, but rather sheer size, image and pointless sound that counts directly for what determines if you are a man or not when you ride. I’m a better person and a better man than you are not because my bike is a better bike, but simply because it is larger, louder, weighs more and costs more than your bike.  I believe that masculinity is not something that you are born with nor can it be developed naturally since I obviously never had any before I bought my Harley.  Masculinity has to be purchased and it has a high price tag.  Since you don't ride a Harley, that must obviously mean that you can't afford a Harley and therefore you just can't afford to be a man.

Yes, even though your Honda can beat my Harley in every aspect of the performance spectrum and is a much better built bike sold for far less, I will nevertheless hold fast to the foolish belief that my Harley will still hold a higher (relative) resale value than your Jap crap and that point alone makes my bike way better than yours over all other considerations.   Oh, I know that you have already disproved the Harley resale myth many, many times on your site but it is one of my strongest beliefs and I really don’t want to be proven to be a clueless idiot who would be smarter to let some complete stranger that I met on the street handle all of my personal finances than I would to ever entrust such fiscal duties to myself.  I will also admit to putting resale value far and above the mere act of riding in the rank of what is most important to me when I own a bike and why I would own one particular brand of bike over another.

And finally, last but not least, since I cannot ever hope to match you man to man in a civil, intelligent debate let alone in an impromptu mano y mano ass kicking contest (even if I teamed up with Tonya Harding and Shane Stant, her baseball bat toting Neanderthal-like henchman), I fervently hope that you will follow my carefully explained directions and show up at this quaint little redneck juke joint just up the road from the trailer park where I live. This is a real man’s bar where men are men, domesticated livestock is routinely sodomized from a stump out back and NASCAR is both admired and respected. Yes, I often like to ride my Harley and hang out all night with other men at this bar (which is different in a not-gay way than when I say that you like to hang out in bars all night with other men). Once again, I will fail to make this point valid through any presentable facts or logic that you could follow. Please park your teeny plastic Honda crotch rocket at the end of the long line of our big, man-sized real metal Harleys and step on inside so that we may drunkenly gang up on you and kick your stupid tiny dicked faggot ass. Afterwards, the boys and I will have a great big circle jerk and, during commercial breaks on the NASCAR race channel, we’ll either pat each other on the back while telling ourselves what damn great Americans we are or we’ll run out back for a quickie and do things to poor old Bessie the cow that even the most jaded slack jawed hillbilly would consider unnatural.

Hope all is well with you and your family.

Love, Bill.”

Yes, that pretty much sums up this spastic cock wrestler’s email. Now, let’s take it point by point, get Bill the answers he has so fervently begs for and have some good fun along the way, shall we?




“So cheesedick I have looked at your rantings and ravings concerning all things HD and I must admit I am impressed. You have done your homework (facts, dates, info on motors etc.., the irrigation pump story was pretty funny) and seem to have taken a real interest in putting down any/all things concerning Harley-Davidson.”

Yet you still just don’t get it, do you, Bill?

If you open your reply / email to me with an insult right off the bat (especially a clichéd insult like the tired old penis argument), that’s a clear and present leading indicator that not only are you already on the defensive in this argument but that you’re back sliding and rapidly losing ground in the process. Here we have you freely admitting that I’m right yet you’re going to do your darnedest to prove otherwise and you’re going to use cliché after cliché to try to validate your sad, miserable existence. Your Quixotic endeavor should be entertaining to say the least, especially since, when it comes to brains, you're basically working with what amounts to a tasty grape-flavored, Betty Crocker brand Fruit Roll-Up snack (that has subsequently been shoehorned into your skull to partially fill the rather large natural void that God intentionally left between your ears).


“Ok, ok you hit the nail on the head with the posers who try to buy into the so-called HD lifestyle (if you want to call it that).”

Oh, but I do want to call IT that, Bill, because that is exactly what IT is. Harley Davidson is not a motorcycle manufacturer. Not anymore and I’d be perfectly willing to argue with you if they could have ever been considered a motorcycle manufacturer at all (based on the history of their lackluster products through the years and based on the history of the company itself). Harley Davidson is not about riding and it hasn’t been for a long, long time. Harley Davidson is all about owning and it's been about owning for almost thirty years now.  You don't ride a Harley Davidson, you own it, or rather, it owns you, or more correctly, the Motor Company owns you.

Owning a Harley Davidson is all about subscribing to a hillbilly fairy tale draped in comical make believe so ludicrous that most five year olds would see right through it for what it was. Owning a Harley Davidson is all about embracing wholesale fantasy and embracing an alternate set of physical laws that don’t work in the real world (or outside of any drunken stupor for that matter.). If we have any argument here at all regarding this particular point, it’s not whether IT exits or not, but whether to call what Milwaukee panders a “lifestyle” or a “religion.” I’m more inclined to believe IT is a pagan religion that is spawned and nurtured in a thousand trailer parks across this great nation. I firmly believe that media driven lemmings (like you) have not only memorized its catechism, line and verse, by heart but that you’ve rebuilt your entire lives around it. The fact that this ridiculous set of easily disproved beliefs has permeated your pathetic lives so effortlessly (due in large amount to your glaringly low IQ) is evident from the way you argue and the clichés you fall back upon in order to feebly try to defend yourself and your laughable lifestyle choice.

The first problem in your life is that you’re simply not thinking for yourself, Bill, you’re letting someone else do your thinking for you and that’s never good. The second, far bigger problem is that you’re not questioning what other people tell you to think; you’re not questioning what you already believe or why you believe it. Again, I credit this inexcusable personal behavior not only to your low IQ and substandard intellect but also to the stark vacuum that fills the empty space where your natural personality would normally reside.


“I have ridden and owned 3 HD's over my 37 years and I think I might have 3 t-shirts (gifts) and a jacket (won it at a raffle). It does sicken me that the Moco (HD in case your pig brain can't comprehend..oh wait your little silly ass profile says you work in Technology..I though you were a cop?!?!?!) has put more effort into their clothing line versus their motor line.”

No, Bill. 

A "Moco" is a rodent native to South America.  Its proper classification is Cavia rupestris and it is somewhat related to the Guinea pig (though a little larger and you probably wouldn't want to keep one of them as a pet).  I find it humorous that you refer to Harley Davidson as the "Moco."  I always thought The Motor Company and those who supported them and / or rode their products were more akin to vermin than rodentia but perhaps since you are closer to the source and actually have years of first hand experience with these lackluster examples of the human race, then it is possible that you may actually know more about this scientific distinction than I do.


I work with technology, Bill.  I know that technology is tantamount to powerful black magic or voodoo for people of your stunted intellectual stature so I'll try to explain what it is that I do as best as I can.  I work in the information technology (IT) field which is full of cutting edge technology therefore my career is based in and around technology, from lasers to microwaves to computers to hardware to software, satellite communications, CADD and GPS, I can't throw a pen at work and it not hit something super expensive, super advanced or super powerful.  I spend each and every day building stupid people like you a better, brighter tomorrow even if you may not be smart enough to use it let alone recognize it for what it is.  The good thing is that my intelligence and my knowledge allow me a comfort factor in my profession where I don't have to break a sweat to earn a damn good living.

Now, as for the cop and technology thing, I rarely talk about myself or brag when I do. That’s not what this site is for and truth be known, I’m nothing special. I’m no hero; I’m just an average Joe from the Grand Design. I do what I can when I can do it. If I stumble and fall, I get back up, dust myself off, and get on with the job without a lot of complaining. I learn from my mistakes (unlike Harley) and I refuse to own anything that is dumber than I am (hence my inability to ever own anything produced by The Motor Company).  I wear a badge for free.  I don't expect thanks or gratitude for what I do because I have plenty of karma to burn.  I also hate to repeat myself or waste space by telling the same information over and over again to a group of people too stupid to look for it on their own, especially when that information has been posted numerous times in years past and that information is still right where I posted it oh so long ago.

If you really want to know about me, my job(s), and my interests then you’ll just have to follow this link to learn more. Whether or not you follow the link is inconsequential to me and I really couldn’t care less one way or the other if you read the material or not but that’s the only way you’re going to learn what you claim that you want to know. All of this personal information has been posted for years now… in fact, your email is very similar to Terry Walton's email (of exactly one short and turbulent year ago) proving that Harley owners really do think alike and that they think in a very shallow and repetitive manner.  I would even go as far as to say that there are probably only a very few truly deep thoughts originated by Harley owners and these so-called deep thoughts (or any serious thinking on your collective part for that matter) probably resemble the operation of an old IBM Token Ring network where the deep thought itself acts as the token ...

So, you say that you're thirty seven years old?   So am I!  Thirty-seven years is a hell of a long time to be stupid, Bill, let alone to remain that way, especially since it appears that you remain so by personal choice and not by unfortunate circumstance.  I simply cannot believe that in thirty-seven years you have not gotten any smarter than you are now, especially at this late stage of your life.  I find that to be quite sad.

What I find equally strange is that if you are so adamantly against what the “MoFo”, sorry, the “MoCo” (note proper spelling of the term) has become, then why do you still support the MoCo by buying and riding its products? That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, Bill.   When you ride your Harley, you are not voicing your dissension with what the MoCo has done, rather you are approving the MoCo’s behavior and reinforcing the perception that not only is what the MoCo doing right but also that what they are doing is exactly what you (the customer base) want them (the MoCo) to do and what you want them to keep on doing.  Riding your Harley, especially a 2005 Super Glide, is voicing your approval of their actions, you’re keeping them in the same business that they’ve gotten used to, the market niche that they lucked up on when they were given a second chanceYou are rewarding failure by riding your Harley, Bill, especially if you ride a 2005 Harley Davidson and then bitch about what the company has become in modern times.  I might could have taken you somewhat seriously if you rode a pre-AMF Harley and were an old school holdout for the glory days of Harley Davidson (be that as they may) but since you don't then I simply can't.  Oh, you can bitch all you want but the truth is that as long as you ride a Harley, especially an almost brand new Harley then you’re casting your vote for the MoCo to continue behaving just the way it is, not against. You’re as much at fault as Milwaukee is so you have no right to complain and no ground to stand on when you choose to do so.

As Americans, we cast many votes each day because we vote with our hard earned dollars. Until you step away from Harley Davidson and buy an import, you are not punishing Harley Davidson for their behavior. If you’re not going to do anything about what you feel is wrong, then I suggest that you (“ewe”) stop whining about the MoCo and get back in The Flock like the good little sheep that you are. A big difference between us is that even though we feel the same way about the MoCo, only I am doing something about it. You’re a passive whiner, I’m an active dissenter. All you do is gripe and complain about what the MoCo has evolved into while I actually went out and did something about my concerns. As both a highly educated, deeply concerned consumer and a proud American, I used my financial power to vote. I voted against Harley’s disturbing behavior. I voted not to support what they have become. I cast my vote for change at Harley Davidson and I cast that vote by buying a Honda instead of a Harley. You see, when I bought my Honda that sent a clear message to Milwaukee in the only language that the odious hillbillies seem to still understand; dollars. I sent a clear $7500 message, a big $7500 vote to Harley Davidson that I don't like what products they make, I don’t like how they make their products
, I don't like how they market their products and I don't like who they market their products to.  Harley stands for nothing that is American.  I have no respect for what Harley Davidson has become or for those who would take the company seriously (let alone worship it).

“Here's the deal since you like somewhat classic American automobiles you might understand, HD's have personality that our American muscle cars used to have. Before all the computer bullshit came along there was a time when a guy/gal could still wrench on their transportation and take pride in the upkeep/maintenance of same.”

There is no deal here, Bill.  I don't make deals with idiots; I give them the basic facts to both educate them and set them straight or, failing that, I simply ridicule them and put them in their proper place for all my visitors to enjoy. 
Please don’t ever compare your Harley (or any Harley for that matter) to a muscle car because the latter had a set of balls to them while the former never did and never will (at least as long as image is more important than performance).

The only muscle Harley ever produced was a copy of already existing European muscle. The rednecks like to think of the Sportster as the original muscle bike but the truth is that the Sportster was such a direct copy of the European muscle bikes of that time that the Sportster even had the gear shift on the same side as the European bikes, which was the opposite side of where American bikes (and every other Harley that year) traditionally mounted it. When Harley needed some modern muscle they couldn’t invent a contemporary design for an engine, no, Milwaukee had to get that engine from Porsche (a company who operates in direct contrast to every way that Milwaukee does business).  I've never understood Harley's long standing relationship with Porsche, a German company who, unlike Harley Davidson, has far more engineers than they do lawyers (which probably explains why they have a much greater reputation and heritage for quality and performance).  I think that putting a Porsche designed engine in a Harley designed frame is the ultimate slap in the face to the modern engine designs produced by the Germans.  To me, that would be like Porsche putting one of their world class high performance engines in a Yugo.

Harley doesn't build muscle, Bill.  They build an image, a shallow image, but a popular one nonetheless.  What little muscle they can lay claim to they either copy outright or become partners with another company in order to do so.

Unlike Harleys, muscle cars were meant for brutal performance, they used the best technology (of the time) to generate impressive performance numbers (again, unlike Harley). As the years went by, increasing government and environmental concerns choked the power from the muscle cars until only four examples were left in the 1970’s; the Ford Mustang, the Chevy Camaro, the Pontiac Firebird, and the Chevy Corvette. Only the Pontiac Firebird would really shine in the 1970’s, eclipsing even the Corvette in handling and performance in the later years, the other three examples would continue on as pale shadows of their former selves.

Muscle cars almost died in the 1970s, due to strict government regulation.

Harley almost died in the 1970’s, due to strictly bad management. 

Muscle cars came back in the 1980's with the help of high technology. 

Harley Davidson came back in the 1980's with the help of a lot of begging and groveling to obtain (completely unnecessary) government aid. 

During the 1980's, muscle cars evolved.

During the 1980's Harley Davidson mutated.

Yes, Bill, I met plenty of people like you during the 1980’s and 1990’s, ham fisted, closed minded idiots who ripped the digital computers out of their cars or removed the EFI systems and tried to retrofit a Holley four barrel carburetor into the setup then wondered why their cars ran like crap afterwards. They, too, couldn’t figure out the “bullshit” computer or the “complicated” EFI system mainly because they were little more than SKOAL or CAT cap wearing, knuckle dragging Neanderthals who had no more right to hold an adjustable wrench than they did to walk upright. Metal tools were too good for them, they should have stuck with blunt rocks and sharp sticks. When they butchered their electronic control systems, invariably neutering their cars and nothing worked right afterwards, I seem to remember that they always blamed it on the computer (which was usually wrapped up in stripped wires and sitting at the bottom of a nearby 50 gallon drum which they used for garbage). They always blamed it on the computer, not the amateur hack jobs that they had done or the Luddite approach to their endeavors. Given their skill and intelligence, they would have had a far better chance of getting more performance from their cars if they had put on a big carved wooden mask and danced naked around their car to the beat of jungle drums all the while shaking rattles and feather decorated painted sticks in the general direction of the car (the better to cast out and drive away the evil technology spirits living under the hood).

As for taking pride in what you own and being able to work on what you drive or ride, I’m afraid that’s entirely up to you, Bill. Entirely. How smart are you? How smart do you want to be? When did you decide to just stop learning and drop out of the human race?  Is your ignorance naturally selective or is it merely an unfortunate byproduct of your silly belief system?  I could see it going either way in your case.  You’re only as stupid as you want to be, Bill, and no matter how fashionable it might be to act stupid, stupid is still stupid and if you're trying your hardest to impress stupid people, then I truly feel sorry for you because you're simply not setting your sights very high. The sad thing in our great society is not the tragic fact that stupidity sells (or that it sells so damn well), no, rather the truly sobering fact is that stupidity has become highly fashionable and desirable, especially among those who don't do (or are simply unwilling to do) a lot of thinking on their own to begin with.

There’s an old saying that states; “you are only as smart as the most complicated thing you can work on.” When you ride a Harley Davidson, that pretty much says that your ability to work on high tech stuff is limited to nothing more complicated than a plastic bucket of Lincoln Logs or possibly an Erector SetEverything changes, especially technology, and you can either move forward with the rest of the human race or stay behind and get left in the dust.  Fall too far behind and you reach a point where you simply get abandoned by the rest of us and you have no hope of ever catching back up.  Reach that point and you're fast on your way to becoming an abandoned human being, Bill.  Not to worry, though, because Harley made the very same decision you have and they made it decades ago which means that they're way ahead of you when it comes to moving in retrograde.  Who knows?  If you keep going backwards as fast as you are, one day, you may actually catch up with the Motor Company (and might even pass them at the rate you're maintaining).

If you’re going to own a toy, let alone a high tech toy, you had damn well better know how it works when it starts to act up and how to work on it if it breaks down. Once again, the most important thing to remember here is that it’s not the computer controlled engine’s fault that you’re too ignorant to work on it and unwilling (or simply unable) to learn how to work on it.  No. You’re blaming the engine when in reality, you should be blaming yourself.  The motor didn't get dumber, it is you who failed to become smarter, to stay informed, and to keep up with the rest of us, to learn how to adapt in order to keep pace with changes in engineering, technology, and design.  Stupidity is a highly contagious affliction, it spreads by word of mouth (and I think you might even be able to catch it from public toilet seats), but I can assure you (much to your rather obvious and great relief) that no one has ever caught a terminal case of the dumb-ass from being constantly exposed to a better way of doing things or from having to learn something entirely new, something that they didn’t know before.

The overall point of this little discussion on sports cars is that you simply cannot compare a Harley, any Harley, to a muscle car or a modern sports car. Ever. Comparing a Harley to a muscle car would be like comparing the child's mechanical horse ride outside of your local K-Mart to this year's winner of the Kentucky Derby.  Muscle cars appeared as a spark of ingenuity among the youth oriented segment of the automotive market, they weren’t designed for a generation of old geezers who had nothing to do and all the time and money to do it with.

Let me give you a little bit of friendly advice, Bill. Please don’t ever compare your Harley to anything modern or powerful; car, truck, toaster, lawn mower, VCR, cordless drill or otherwise. Don’t try to compare your Harley to anything great because your Harley isn’t great. Don’t try to compare your Harley to anything that ever had or still has any guts to it because you’re Harley never had, currently does not have, and never will have any guts to it. The problem with comparing your Harley to anything truly great or powerful is that you have to drag whatever it is that you are comparing your Harley to all the way down to your Harley’s level and that makes whatever you are using for a comparison look bad in turn.  Comparing something great to your Harley insults what you are comparing your Harley to.  If you do make any of these ludicrous comparisons, especially in public around people more educated than you are, then you’ll only show your deep ingrained and undeniable ignorance of all things mechanical or technological.  Your Harley already makes people think that you are stupid when you ride it around town; opening your mouth and comparing your Harley to something it obviously isn't will instantly remove all doubt of your intelligence from the mind of anybody standing within earshot of your voice.

“I have an 2005 Harley Superglide and I do all my own maintenance. Did I over pay? Nah, shopped around and found a poser who couldn't handle riding in the so-called winter of Atlanta.”

"Superglide ?" ...  The name of your bike sounds more like the rejected name for a new personal lubricant product than it does a serious, manly motorcycle; "You and your lover can have a smooth ride with new Superglide; it's water based, hypoallergenic and smells like a mechanic's finger!  Now available in new 40 weight viscosity and Wild Sturgis Nights flavor.  Can also be used as a lube for cam break-in during engine rebuilds.  Superglide!  Ask for it where ever condoms or OTR retreads are sold."

Superglide.  Harley is full of poorly chosen and nigh often humorous names for their bike designs and engines.  Superglide, Dynaglide, Ultraglide, and some of the dumbest engines in the world have the greatest comical names; Panhead, Shovelhead ... The Knucklehead ! Was "Knucklehead" the name of the engine or the target market that HD intended to sell the bike to?   "Superglide."  I guess "Assjuggler" and "Buttslapper" were two model names that just didn't sound quite as good as "Superglide" to the test market research and image development group...

I'm glad that you do your own maintenance, Bill, but then a Harley isn't exactly the hardest thing in the world to work on, now is it?  Hell, if you know how to play with Legos, you've got more mechanical engineering expertise than any five factory trained HD technicians.  All you really need to work on a Harley is the vitriolic vocabulary of a drunken sailor and a five pound hammer.  If you can't fix it with a combination of using those two tools in a pitched frenzy, chances are it's going to be something that only the dealer can fix (because they have bigger hammers and a somewhat larger and uglier vocabulary).

I also want to thank you for providing yet another fine example of the “high resale value” myth being shot down in smoking flames. I don’t know how much you paid for your Harley, but if you paid more than a quarter on the dollar you got ripped off bad.  No matter what you paid for it, I bet the other guy laughed all the way to the bank. You say you called him a “poser” but the truth is he called you a “sucker.”

Remember one more simple bit of wisdom in life, Bill; just because you bought something you think was a steal doesn’t always mean that the other guy was sorry to let it go.


“Do I mind not being able to keep up with your CBR? nah I got 3 kids and stopping fast is wayyyy harder than going fast. I like my bike, just as much as I liked the 3 imports I have owned in the past. The difference? Well it is simple asswipe, I can resale this HD in a few years and get almost what I paid. Can you say that? Why hell no you can't!!!”

Not only can you not say what you just said but you can’t prove it either, Bill. On the other hand, I can disprove your ridiculous claim rather easily and have many times before with example after example of basic economics. If you bought your Harley for its resale value, especially in the current downward sliding Harley market, then you’re the kind of sucker that would normally only be found in a really good P.T. Barnum wet dream (except that you’re probably not wearing pink cotton candy underwear and swinging upside down from a trapeze to loopy organ music).

Another important difference between us is that you bought your Harley as an investment while I bought my Honda to ride. You see, already we’re identifying who the real biker is and who the pretend biker is in this argument. Real bikers don’t worry about resale value or little scratches or rock chips or count the miles in any capacity other than how much they’ve ridden at the end of the day. Real bikers worry about how a bike rides, how it feels, and how it handles, not what it’s going to be worth in five years if they put “x” number of miles on it a year and keep it covered up in their climate controlled garage. I’m not into motorcycles or the sport to make a profit, I ride to have fun and to enjoy my life. If it costs me some money to do so, I'm willing to pay to play.  I’m so glad that I don’t have to go around worrying if the five miles I put on my Harley today are going to decrease its overall market value when I try to resell it. I’ve seen way too many Harleys go for far less than their original price, much to the chagrin and anger of their surprised owners who believed the marketing myths and hearsay while purchasing their Harley as an "investment." Yet another difference between us is that I went into the deal of buying my Honda knowing full well that it wouldn’t hold its retail value like a Harley but then the resale value of my bike is driven by its build quality and reputation, not by the incessant ebb and flow of the desires of the media driven bewildered herd that forms the pop culture.  Your only claim over my bike is that you (might) have a higher resale value.  Might.  Unfortunately, that resale value is based on the wants and desires of a group of people who are image driven and fact starved.  In other words, the people who will pay you a high price for your Harley are people who don't know the first thing about motorcycles to begin with.  If they did know anything about motorcycles, they certainly wouldn't be buying a Harley, let alone your Harley, let alone paying you the price that you're asking for it.

Your Harley can’t keep up with my Honda in any part of the performance spectrum, Bill. At least you're not stupid enough to think otherwise which is a point in your favor but since you entered this debate with a huge intellectual deficit, it's a point that amounts to nothing more than a drop in the bucket.  No.  You can’t match my acceleration, my handling, my braking, you’re heavier, slower, harder to turn, more expensive, your brakes are inferior, you handle like an epileptic water buffalo and your engine is an outdated design that is twice as big as my engine yet makes only half the power. In direct contrast to your Harley, my entire bike is descended from the world winning and revolutionary designed RC211V race bike. The ancestry of your bike and its motor has more in lineage with old farm equipment than with any type of modern motorcycle let alone one with a world championship pedigree.   In fact, I’m surprised that brand new Harleys don’t instantly qualify for an antique vehicle tag at the time of purchase. IMHO, they certainly should given their build quality and technology base. Harley Davidson; yesterday’s technology at tomorrow’s prices.

For what it is worth, I paid $7500 for my bike, brand new. I’ve owned it since June of 2004. I have almost 16,000 miles on it which I bet is far more than your Harley has on it (counting just the miles you put on it, not the ones racked up from the previous owner) and I doubt if you’ll match my pace for accruing mileage per day, per week, per month or per year. Unlike you, I have no delusions about the resale value of my bike but then I didn’t pay a lot for my bike, now did I? Therefore, resale isn’t nearly as important to me as it will be for you.

Let’s look at that closer now, shall we?  Yes, it's time for some simple economics and basic math, once again.

If I paid $7500 for my bike and resell it for $3750 in 5 years, that’s a 50% loss. Ouch, but then I fully expect that kind of loss and I’m willing to accept it. On the other hand, if you pay $24,000 for your Harley and resell it in 5 years for $12,000, that’s a 50% loss as well. In fact, if you take just a fifteen and a half percent loss on your Harley, you’ve already lost as much money as I have with the fifty percent loss on my Honda. Do you see where I’m going? A fifty percent loss totaling $3750 is still vastly more preferable to a fifty percent loss totaling twelve grand (as one Harley owner I work with just found out the hard way on an almost brand new anniversary edition Harley with less than three thousand miles on it). If you pay more for your bike, Bill, any loss you incur will be proportionally more than if you paid less and you’ll have bigger losses in smaller percentages. I am fully willing to take a 50 percent loss on resale of my Honda. I’ll just turn around and use that $3750 to make the replacement bike cost half of what it would brand new, thus improving even more my enjoyment of Honda’s products. Likewise, that’s 3750 teeny tiny individual votes against Harley Davidson and their products, 3750 teeny tiny votes that translates into one huge slap in Milwaukee’s face and a rather stern wagging of my gloved finger.

You see, Bill, another difference between us is that I’m not only brave enough to take a stand for what I believe in, I’ve also got the guts to put my money where my mouth is. For me, that means buying a Honda and enjoying what I ride. For you, that means talking out of your ass behind ole Willie G’s back while you willingly French kiss Milwaukee’s hairy ass, year after year.


“Now I know you are getting antsy waiting for me to piss you off and give you some reason to call me inbred/retard/shallow gene pool. So here we go, why didn't you buy a real Trans Am? Is it because you wanted a plastic one to match your plastic bike? Or do you like disposable cars as much as disposable motorcycles?”

Oh, I don’t need a reason to call you any of those things, Bill, not when you're willing to give me so many reasons all on your own.  I really don't know if you are inbred or retarded ("SIGNS POINT TO YES" or so says the Magic 8-Ball I'm holding right now) but you are rather uneducated and you do seem to go out of your way in order to both prove that fact as well as put it on display.  When you mix a lack of education with a fervent desire to defend your ludicrous beliefs, you're headed for trouble, especially if there is no defense for your chosen set of beliefs.  When you sent me an email in the shape that yours arrived in, you automatically invited comparisons of your genetic profile as well as your lack of education.  The childish insults you threw in for good measure only sealed your fate and insured that I'd have some fun at your expense by proving (without too much effort) that you are exactly what you fastidiously claim not to be.

Now, as for pissing me off, I have a rather thick skin and I do wear a badge in my spare time so I'm damn near immune to the insults you've managed to dish out, especially when they've been so un-original and have been delivered with all the finesse and skill of a fifth grader who was held back a year.  You are your own worst enemy, Bill, because so many of the beliefs which you embrace are also your simple undoing.  It's not my fault that you adopted a set of beliefs that you can't logically justify embracing let alone intelligently defend.

Harley owners don’t piss me off, Bill, because they are usually speaking honestly when they email me or call me on the phone, they speak from their heart (which is good since most of them don’t have a brain). No, I’ve never faulted a man for saying what he wants to say because I feel that honesty is such an underrated virtue these days.

1986 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am

If you (the visitor) are reading this and you want to know more about the old Pontiac Trans Am that I rescued off of Ebay, then head over to my blog and read the entry on "I like my sports cars a little on the trashy side."  Read that first then follow up with a short hop, skip, and jump over to Special Performance Online where you'll find "the rest of the story ..." on the history, specs and details of this particular TA.  Now, as far as my Pontiac Trans Am goes, you can make fun of it all you want, Bill, it doesn't hurt my feelings because it's a car, an interesting car, a fun car, but it's a car nonetheless (and you can't really hurt the feelings of an inanimate object).  It's not the greatest car in the world nor is it the fastest (and I also don't go around bragging about it being so either).  Unlike you, I'm not defined by what I own so making fun of something I possess only wastes your time and energy.  Hell, I make fun of my car all the time.  Let me ask you a question, Bill ... Do you know how to double the resale value of a 1982 to 1992 GM F-body Camaro / Firebird?  You just fill the gas tank all the way full before you sell it!  You see, Bill, if you can't make fun of yourself, of what you own, of what you ride, of what you drive, then you have no right to make fun of others.  It's the universal rule of comedy.

“And another thing, nice looking photo on your silly-ass profile? You trying to look tough? Didn't work ass-clown.”

Ah, Bill.  Another difference between us is that my self esteem and my personal happiness in life are not dictated by what I look like or by what I own nor do I care what other people think of me. My life is not lived by conducting polls of what I should do, how I should act, what I should own / ride / drive, how I should dress or how I should think.  I'm not concerned with what other people think of my appearance otherwise I would never have posted the pictures in the first place.  I’m not in life to win a popularity contest, impress other people, make them happy, or make them (somehow, magically) admire me. Other people don't concern me, Bill. 

It's wonderful to be a misanthrope and a loner.  It's wonderful to be free of the conventional shackles that guide social behavior.  My personal philosophy is if I have a handful of friends at any one time, that’s a few fingers too many. I can get by on my own, with no one else, and I make it a point to do so in my life.  I work hard to become self sufficient and I’ve done that since before I was a teenager.  I've been self sufficient for so long that it just comes natural to me, another reason why I would never own a Harley.  A Harley is a group thing, there is no individuality involved, no originality, no creativity and anyone who owns a Harley yet proudly proclaims to be an individual is fooling their self (and no one else).

I’m not a beautiful person


I'm not even what you would think of as being even remotely handsome (hell, I’m uglier than two Ethiopians fighting over a pack of Gummi Bears). In fact, I’m so ugly that what little sex I do get from time to time I have to pay for (and I’m married, for pity's sake)!  Yes, I’m truly ugly inside and out, through and through, but I’m totally comfortable with that and wise enough to know that no physical item which I can buy is ever going to magically make me better looking or somehow more attractive to the opposite sex.  It's a motorcycle, Bill, not a Genie in a bottle and rub it as hard as you want, it isn't going to make your fondest wishes come true.  This is where we differ, once more, because I fully understand reality.  Cold, stark, mean old reality and I'm comfortable with what little God gave me in this life (I think I've done pretty well managing what He left me responsible for to begin with).  You, in contrast, run away from your natural inadequacies and your deep rooted insecurities; you hide behind your big bike, like a little girl behind her mother's skirt, thinking your big manly loud, flashy bike will protect you from the ugly, bitter truth, that it will hide the real you from what others will see. The truth is that I’m the same person on or off my Honda, with or without my Honda.  I was who I was before I ever bought my Honda and I’ll be who I am long after the Honda is gone whether it is replaced by another Honda, a Ducati, a Suzuki, a Triumph, a Harley Davidson or simply not replaced at all.  I will be the same person regardless because my character and personality come naturally, not over the counter. 

I truly doubt if you can claim the same.

The photos of me are there to show you who you are up against, Bill, not what you are up against. I make no threats and no intimidating postures, that’s the realm of idiot posers on Harleys (and the friendly staff of the local Glamour Shots studio which is only as happy to take these losers' hard earned money as Milwaukee is). Photos of people and / or their bikes don’t intimidate me or impress me. If you’re intimidated or impressed by a photo of someone on a bike, especially a photo you find on the Internet, then you’re even more pathetic than I give you credit for (and that’s a lot of credit, trust me). The gear and the bike, in direct contrast to you, do not define what kind of person I am nor do they define who I am. They are functional for sake of function not cosmetic for the sake of appearance.  I’m not posting my picture to attract women. I’m not posting my picture to look menacing or imply threats. They are merely pictures of me, my bike, and my gear, taken in a rather mundane setting. No tough guy stance, no store bought attitude, no catalog purchased macho bravado....

They are just pictures of me.  Nothing more, nothing less.

Oh, and the one thing that you do have to remember, Bill, (and this is on purpose) is that the picture you’re making fun of is a picture of the guy who has consistently been handing Harley riders (such as yourself) your collective asses for nearly a decade and a half now, just like I am doing once more here again, this time around. Deeds, not words, Bill. Action not image.  You can make fun of my picture all you want but you can’t beat me because you can't hurt my feelings.  I'm the king of self-deprecating humor, I put my own self down far more in real life than any of you all ever could and I have a lot of fun doing it as well.  You can’t best me in argument, in logic, or in bike choice. As such, I wouldn’t be poking too much fun at that picture because when people ask you who got the better of you, when people ask you who your intellectual and genetic superior is, you’re either going to have to lie and say that you don’t know or you’re going to have to show them that picture of me.  You know, the one you make fun of.  Whoa be onto you when you do though because you're probably going to get laughed right out of your local HOG club, be excommunicated from The Brotherhood, The Family and The Church of Milwaukee all together and Santa Willie will leave you a big lump of coal and a bundle of switches in your HD logo embossed leather stocking for Christmas.

“Your interests really got me laughing. Science Fiction? Ok Dr. Spock or is it Obi-wan?Talk about people getting reeled in on bullshit, sci-fi is the leader in that category. How many times you seen Star Wars?”

I'd rather be hated for what I am than loved for something that I'm not, Bill.  Now, I’ve already discussed my interest in science fiction at length and in great detail in Terry’s email, especially the unique and rather interesting marketing strategy that seems to be shared between Star Wars and Harley Davidson (and some strong evidence that Willie G. himself may like Star Wars more than you think!).  I will say this little tid-bit again because it is often beyond the simple grasp of you and those like you to understand:  science fiction and owning a Harley Davidson both require you to have an active imagination in order to accept them for what they are.  Science fiction is unique primarily because science fiction also requires that you have a functioning brain to fully enjoy it while owning a Harley Davidson is unique in the fact that it requires the exact opposite.  Science fiction rewards you for thinking and for having original thoughts while Harley punishes you harshly if you even so much as try.

“I looked at some of the responses you had gotten from your profile. I think the ratio is about 8 to 1 GUYS TO GALS..So it is all coming clear, fast bike, psuedo Muscle Car, cheesy-little goatee beard, rants and plagarism of know non-conformists, wanna be cop (technology?!?!?! that is what you list as occupation!!! Your profile remember?), I think the Blackecho is in your head you wanna be Barney Fife. Is your one bullet in your pocket? Or is it up your ass vibrating you down the highway on your little 600.”


Just … wow.

Will you look at that?! That has got to be one of the longest, ugliest and most thrown together set of vagrant innuendos regarding my sexual preference that I have ever had the displeasure of reading through. Yes, folks, it’s the classic “you don’t ride a Harley therefore you must be gay” line of logic mixed lovingly with the reference to that bumbling slapstick police officer, "Barney Fife." At least he spelled "Barney" right, which is more than most Harley riders can do (like CCHix).  Like I said at the very beginning of this discussion; Bill is nothing if he isn’t utterly predictable.


Well, that's certainly a new one on me but I can assure you that there is no plagiarism on my site.  Plagiarism is a mighty big word for someone who doesn't even know what it means (you use the term incorrectly and completely out of context) let alone for someone who can't even spell the word correctly (it is spelled "plagiarism" (play-jeer-ism) not "plagarism" (play-gar-ism)).  I'm going to chalk this silly little accusation up to just another prime example of you talking out your ass without first knowing what it is you are talking about (which you apparently do a lot of, especially in your email).  Using quotes from famous or educated people to prove a point and giving proper credit to who originally said those quotes is not "plagiarism," Bill.  It's quotation for effect.


Hell, if you asked most Harley owners what a "plagiarist" was, they'd probably tell you that a plagiarist was a man who was married to more than one woman at a time. 

Truth be known, Bill, if it's okay with you, I’d a lot rather have a “blackecho” in my head than the black hole that you have in yours.

I love how you refer to "know (known) non-conformists" like they are a bad thing when everyone knows that Harley is sold as a bike that will instantly (magically!) make you into a non-conformist.  Harley advertisements tell you not to conform to standards.  Don't obey other people's rules.  Be a non-conformist!  Be a rebel!  So much of the Harley mindset is geared around non-conformity and social disobedience that I'm surprised you have a problem with it at all.  Oh, that's right!  I'm giving examples of real non-conformists not the store-bought, one-size-fits-all, pay-as-you-go pretend non-conformity like Harley sells.

Harley riders like to think that they are individuals, that they are non-conformists, outlaws and rebels but they aren't.  Harley owners are conformists of the worst kind because they are conformists pretending to be non-conformists, they are sheep in wolf's clothing and they are some of the saddest, most pathetic, most pity-worthy individuals you will ever have the misfortune to share space and time with in your life. 

Ever since Harley sold all of its street cred (and its soul) in order to stay alive, it has become an icon of conformity, the definition of conformity.  Harley Davidson, once the icon of the anti-pop culture has, now, not only fully embraced pop-culture but has become a mainstream icon of that insipid pop-culture.  True individuals don't hang out in large groups, true individuals don't dress alike, don't act alike, don't think alike.  True individuals form their own thoughts, not let someone else give them a list of what they can think.  The ugly truth is that when you buy a Harley, you're not only conforming, you're becoming part of the pop culture, you're giving up your identity to assume an identity that the pop culture approves and endorses.  You are becoming everything that Harley Davidson once stood against, you are becoming the very same people that once used to make fun of real bikers.  Harley Davidson not only sold out, they died the great death; they became exactly what they once hated.  When you buy a Harley, you sell your own self out, totally, right down to your beliefs, your personality, and your wardrobe.

I understand why you find the works and wisdom of the non-conformists to be troubling, after all, you ride a Harley and change, non-conformity, originality, and original thought are all things which are abhorred and fervently frowned upon by The Motor Company.  So you have a problem with quotes taken from known non-conformists.  My guess is that you realize that there is a big difference between being a true non-conformist and being a pretend one.  Truth hurts, Bill, especially when the quotes I use from real non-conformists go to show the truth behind just how much of a conformist you and your kind really are.  Each quote displayed on my site is another reminder that you're living a life of pure fantasy, of pure make believe and that educated people see right through your sad, silly little facade.

So … You wonder why there are more guys who email me than women?

Here’s a clue for you, Blue.

I’m married. Happily married. Very happily married. My life is also not driven by decisions made on the spur of the moment from the head that has no brain.  My needs are taken care of right here at home, there’s no need for me to stray or wander when I have everything I want when I want it and as often as I want it.

Do I get email from women? Yes, quite often. I get email all the time asking if I’m married, if I’d be willing to ride somewhere to meet a woman (on her bike), if I have a brother who is single, etc.  It’s all quite flattering.  I’m constantly amazed by the women who are attracted to my personality, my humor, and my intellect (since, like I said, I’m uglier than a two dollar whore on discount night at the local brothel). Here’s some news for you, Bill, and for those like you. It isn’t what you own, it’s who you are that attracts the opposite sex and if what you own defines who you are, you’re looking at either some very shallow relationships or a lot of lonely nights hitching a ride to Palmville.  Riding a Harley and trying to use it to get laid on a regular basis is tantamount to stuffing a rolled-up sock in your pants and going to a singles bar. Everyone who sees you knows you’re faking it and even if you do get lucky, your partner is going to be in for some major disappointment when you do get up to speed.

The reason why you don’t see many emails from women on my site is twofold.

1) I keep it in my pants and I keep it at home. What this means is I’ve always been polite and aloof to my female fans mainly because I don’t want there to ever be any idea planted that I’m not happily married and that something could ever come up to drive a wedge in what my wife and I have.  You see, there’s only one woman for me, Bill, and she’s been with me for the last thirteen years of my life, a full third of my life, and I’m hopelessly devoted to her (in a Beauty and the Beast kind of way, I guess). We have a beautiful daughter so I find that my spare time is given to spending time with them, at home, because I enjoy the pleasure of my wife's company and I enjoy watching my daughter grow up, in being a part of her primary years.  Since I work three jobs to provide for them and make the community that we live and work in a better place, my time that I can spend with them is rather limited and I make every effort to maximize that time when I can.

Women don't strap on their penis or wear their masculinity on their sleeve when they go out The second reason is that women don’t get spitting defensive about their motorcycles (or Harley Davidsons in particular) is primarily because women aren't threatened by my website.  Women read my website, laugh, and then either email me with their own examples of similar idiots they know (and ride with) or they simply ignore my website and go on with their lives. Women don’t get defensive about Harleys, Bill, because it’s not their fight.  A Harley is a guy thing, for the most part, at least the part of Harley Davidson that guys are willing to argue and fight over.  Women don't care either way and the ones with Harleys who do email me don't want to talk about bikes at all; no, they're interested in me, my personality, my humor, my brain.  They don't care what I ride, they care what I think and the fact that I think on my own, have a brain, a personality and that I have a sense of humor are all really big turn-ons, or so I've been told many, many times by my female visitors and female fans.

Women aren't interested in what you have, they're interested in who you are and if who you are is just a store bought copy of what any other man can be, given a little time and a little money, then you really aren't much of anything, are you?  If any other man can buy what you ride and wear what you wear, then any other man can be your direct replacement. 
Men, on the other hand, have to prove something and you’ll beat your chest like a horny silverback gorilla to defend the make believe world you live in, mainly because it's all you have, it is what defines you and without it you are nothing. A Harley, to a man, is all about masculinity, a false, shallow masculinity but a masculinity nonetheless and for some people (like you), it's the only masculinity you have left so I fully understand why you defend it so boldly (if ineffectually). Men are, for the most part, defined by their bikes while women are not.  

Remember: a Harley is just God's little way of saying that He's sorry He didn't give you a penis when you were born.

However, don't feel lost, Bill, because there's a fix for this tragic birth defect.  Yes, a Harley is about the biggest strap-on, chrome plated, kick-start penis with a side-stand that money can buy and you can option that thing out to your heart's content (and wallet's limit).  I'm so very glad to see that you finally got yours, Lord knows, you've waited such a long time to be finally complete as an example of the male of the human species.

Now, speaking of women and Harleys, it is my firm belief that if Harley has done one good thing for motorcycling in general, it's in building a bike that is more suited to the build and frame of a woman than it is to a man.  A lot of women are attracted to Harleys not because of the bike or its heritage or its raw power (what little it does have), but rather for how the bike is built.  Harleys are low to the ground and women, bless their heart, are usually the smaller (not weaker) sex.   Import companies still haven't learned that not everyone who buys a motorcycle is a six foot tall, two hundred pound male of European descent.  That seems to be the minimum leg cut that import companies build their bikes for.  I applaud Harley Davidson for bringing a lot of women into the sport as well as providing them several models that they can both mount easily and enjoy riding.  Yes, you might even go as far as to say that Harley Davidson motorcycles and Secret(tm) brand feminine deodorant / anti-perspirant could easily be sold under the exact same well known advertising motto of "Strong enough for a man but made for a woman."

The (secret) inspiration behind the perspiration that goes into
the engineering of your typical Harley Davidson product.

Men get very defensive when you expose Harley for what it is because I am questioning you manhood (or obvious lack thereof), your masculinity (or obvious lack thereof), and what you have replaced your natural masculinity with, what you have traded your natural masculinity for (and I laugh at how you got gypped).  I question you for riding something that obviously has replaced your manhood and your masculinity if not your brain (and there is substantial proof that HD has done all of that).  Women see right through you and they understand where I come from because if they own a Harley and they hang around men with Harleys, then they’ve seen exactly what I’m talking about (and making fun of) both first hand and up close.  If anyone can see right through the paper-thin facade that men with Harleys continually put up, it's the women who they are trying to impress.

Do I get emails from women regarding my site? 

Yes, I do.  Most of them are private conversations not for public consumption.  I respect the privacy of my visitors, especially the female visitors, even if we disagree.  I'm sorry that you didn't find what you were looking for on my site, Bill.  However, might I suggest that if you are looking to read some hot personal correspondence between two complete strangers, then you should go to your local book retailer and ask for a copy of this month's "Penthouse Letters."  You'll find it behind the counter, next to "Easy Rider" (which really should be more appropriately re-titled "Easy Reader") magazine.

I hope that answers your question, Bill.


“If you want to impress me you should have bought the CBR1100xx or whatever the model is, you know the Man's Crotch Rocket.”

If I want to impress you ...?  What the ....?  Oh, what unmitigated gall you have, Bill!  If you think I'm worried about impressing you, then we've definitely gone way past delusions of grandeur and stepped into the realm of blatant hallucinations on your part.  Now, there are two very important things which you have simply failed to understand here in regard to my website and more importantly my life, so please pay attention as I go over them one more time for your benefit.

1) I'm not out to impress anyone (let alone you).  The reason for this is that I am a misanthrope.  You can look that word up if you are still unfamiliar with it.  As a misanthrope, you are nothing to me, Bill.   My reaction to you is a pleasant combination of me being highly intolerant of the human race and you being a highly insignificant example of that species.  You are insignificant because you personally (and willingly) choose to be so.  You not only embrace stupidity and ignorance, you gladly pay to have it become a big part of your life and you wear it like a custom tailored suit.

I'm not defined by what I own nor do I determine if I'm a man or not by the size of what I ride / drive / own.  People notice me for who I am, Bill, not for what I own or for what I ride. I generate my own personality, my charisma and my own unique character through my sharp intellect and often scathing sense of humor.  I'm not afraid to act up in public or walk around like I own the place.  The way I carry myself in public, no one can miss me. I own the world, Bill, with or without a bike, regardless of how I am dressed.  People like you are just squatters on my property, mental vagrants and destitute souls who are not worth paying attention to let alone interacting with on a social level.

What you think or what you care or how you feel about me or my bike or my car or my looks or how I dress or my wife or how I live my life isn’t going to affect me one way or the other because you are insignificant.  Your opinion simply doesn't matter to me in the least.  I didn’t buy my bike to make me more popular or to get me noticed by other members of the human race. I didn’t buy my bike so that people would ooh and ahh when I rode by or hear me coming three miles away and start looking for my arrival.  If people notice me, fine.  If they don't, so much the better.  I prefer to move like a shark through crowds and the last time I checked, sharks don't have to roar loudly or move very fast in order for lesser creatures to get the hell out of their way (and to do so in a big hurry). 

2)    Size doesn't matter if you can't perform.  When speaking on the philosophy of personal defense and concealed carry for firearms, Massad Ayoob once said that a "a .32 in the pocket always beats a .45 left in a drawer at home."  I like to think that philosophy also easily applies to motorcycling in that a Honda CBR600RR ridden to work every day beats a big Harley Davidson that stays home in the garage Monday through Saturday, especially when the Honda rider lives thirty-five miles away and the Harley owner lives only five miles away.  The other thing to remember is that you don’t need a big bike to ride, let alone to get where you are going.

And speaking of masculinity... What exactly would you know of masculinity, Bill?  What could you possibly know about masculinity?   After all, you ride a Harley Davidson, perhaps the greatest retail replacement for natural masculinity in the world.  I find it sad that both your masculinity and your patriotism are not only so easily bought commercially but that they are so readily displayed in public like a pair of bright, brand new, hand sewn patches adorning a threadbare raggedy old vest.

“Hey lay off HD it will be around long after your bike is a styrofoam coffee cup at the gay bar you and your Smokey and the Ass Bandit car are parked in front of.”

Ah, yet another blatant assumption of my sexual preference to help shore up your almost completely failed defense, eh, Bill?  Another sputtering, stammering accusation of my non-existent homosexuality. 
Yes, Harley Davidson will be around long after my bike is, but only in a museum as a display on "Cultural and business failures of the late 20th and early 21st Century."  I'm sure that Honda will provide a huge grant to create the museum.

Do you really think that Harley Davidson is going to survive another century, Bill? 

Harley barely survived their first century and they did it on luck and handouts, not on their own merits, not by being leaders in their field, not by paving the way for the rest of the world to follow.  Harley Davidson is just a long list of one failure after another.  They don't build anything modern.  They have no technology base.  They don't explore alternate branches of technology, hell, they don't employ any technology higher than the kind of science and engineering you would find in the early part of the 1950's.  I'm surprised that they have harnessed the power of internal combustion (given the build of their bikes, I would expect them to be powered by coal and steam or wind and sail).   Honestly, what does Harley Davidson have to offer the world?  What do they really have to offer?  If Harley Davidson, as a company, magically vanished overnight and there were no more Harley Davidson motorcycles ever built, ever, would America suffer greatly?  Would we collapse as a nation?  Would the world come to a screeching halt?


In fact, I truly doubt if we, as a nation, would miss HD at all.  I know the world certainly wouldn't.  If we even noticed they were gone at all, they would be remembered as just a big pothole in the road of motorcycle history, rapidly forgotten and left far behind in the distance.  Harley Davidson offers nothing to the nation, let alone the world.  They build copies of the same bikes they made in the 1950's.  Honda has done far more for this great country than Harley Davidson ever will.  Honda pays more taxes, employs more workers and has created far more jobs than Harley Davidson ever will.  Compared to Honda, both here in America as well as world wide, Harley Davidson really is a "Mom and Pop" operation run by a bunch of barefoot hillbillies with delusions of grandeur.  Once again, when it comes to Honda vs. Harley Davidson, you’re wrong and you're wrong because you're silly ignorance blinds you to basic facts in life, business, and economics (which is probably exactly why you own a Harley).  I think that Malcolm X said it best when he spoke these words; "You're not to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality."

Harley Davidson is a zombie, Bill  It's a reanimated dinosaur that should have been allowed to become extinct decades ago when its kind died out. Like most zombies in film, Harley Davidson truly has become the living dead, it is a caricature of its former self; a loud, slow, and clumsy parody worshipped by idiots and dullards who think that electricity is powerful magic.  Harley had to get down on its knees and grovel for its life, it had to sell its soul just to survive and it sold out to become the very thing that it once stood against.  Harley Davidson has no street cred, no, the only cred they have now is the plastic kind they take at the cash register.

I truly feel a bitter pity for ignorant twinkle twats like you, Bill. Have you not seen the writing on the wall? Harley Davidson is in big trouble. The long lines and high prices at the dealership are over. The fact that bikes are sitting unsold on the showroom floors has the hillbillies in Milwaukee scared and confused which is understandable since someone with an online degree from DeVry would have a better educational background than most of the corporate officers in Milwaukee.  Yes, Bill, the Baby Boomer generation, Harley’s “goose that lays the golden eggs” is about to move out of the riding range and the market in general within the next few years and the bad news is that there's no replacement for it behind it.  It's a big bubble that's carried Harley along for almost three decades but it's about tapped out and Harley has nothing to fall back on.  What that means is that Harley has built a house of straw on a soap bubble in a highly specialized market it both created and nurtured.  The bubble is going to burst, the market is going to dry up, the straw house is going to come tumbling down and all that is going to be left is a bunch of crying rednecks who are having to title pawn their El Caminos and sell blood plasma to keep their double-wides and rent-to-own furniture suites from getting repossessed.

The generation that follows the Baby Boomers cares not for the products that their fathers and grandfathers rode or the ridiculous outdated jokes that Harley slaps together and puts an equally ridiculous price tag on. Harley Davidson is going to, very soon, move on back down to last place in production and sales in its own country (like it used to be even before the unfortunate AMF years). The hillbillies in Milwaukee are worried, Bill. No, let me correct that by saying that they’re scared shitless because they realize that twenty five years ago, they had a chance to work hard and build a castle that would stand the test of time, instead they chose to remain lazy and build a house of straw. They failed basic business and economics, Bill (but then Harley Davidson has a long history of failing at any business venture it enters, from RVs and golf cart production to trying to compete in the world spotlight with a sport bike of their very own).  Harley is one long collection of failures, bad decisions, and lessons not learned, over one hundred years of being imitators, beggars and losers with big mouths and no balls.

The lesson to be learned here (and a lesson that is taught in first year economics, at least it was when I went to college) is that you don’t solve long term problems with short term solutions. That’s exactly what Harley Davidson did and it’s going to get them in the end, with a vengeance. I’ll just be happy to watch it happen and I look forward to it because Harley Davidson is an example of rewarding failure. Harley Davidson stands for everything that is wrong with this great country.

Harley’s uppance will come and the poetic irony of this is that they've got no one to blame but their own selves.  You see, Harley cannot compete with the rest of the world because Harley is not a motorcycle manufacturer; they stopped being a motorcycle manufacturer when they bought out from AMF.  Today, they are a proprietary lifestyle provider and their clientele is both select and aging. The generation behind the Baby Boomers, my generation, doesn’t want big loud outdated motorcycles. They don’t want a pre-packaged, unchanging lifestyle. They want spontaneous change, they want something new every day and that is not how Harley has geared itself to operate. That’s the failure of Harley Davidson, it is a lifestyle, a personality, a set of unchanging beliefs with its own unique proprietary charisma all rolled into one. The only problem, of course, is that when you strap on your Harley, it has to go on top of your natural lifestyle, over your natural personality, and in front of any other set of beliefs which you may have and of course, it replaces completely your own charisma with the all important image. That’s why Harley owners all look alike, that’s why the bikes all look alike. That’s why you all act alike, that's why you all have the same beliefs. You’re all members of the same flock, a group of sheep who have found yourselves wanting on an individual level but together, you’re something collectively that you could never be individually.

Enjoy your Harley, Bill. It doesn’t enhance you, it defines you, and that is why Harley will ultimately fail. Honda will be around far longer than Harley because unlike Harley, Honda builds many products; cars, trucks, off road vehicles, power tools, power generators, and even robots (while the only robots that Milwaukee makes are the preprogrammed hillbilly automatons that leave the dealership showroom yee-hawing on their brand new Harleys).  I laugh when I think of the biggest difference between Harley and Honda because it’s so simple to understand and yet very few people actually do understand it. You see, Bill, if Honda needs to build a full size pickup truck with their name on it, they just build it their self. If Harley wants to build a pickup truck with their name on it, they have to go to Ford to get it done.  Oh, you may remember the particular anti-Harley T-shirt design that shows the infamous "bar and shield" logo and says "
If they built an airplane, would you fly in it?"  The answer to that question is a resounding "NO!"  However, if you were to put the Honda wing symbol on the T-shirt and ask the same question, the answer would be "YES!"  Why is that relevant?  Well,
Honda has just announced that they will now be building jets.  Yes, Honda is going to build light jet powered airplanes and they will be building them here in America as well.  You can find out more here.  The planes will be operated by two crew (pilot and co-pilot), will seat up to five passengers, and are powered by two uniquely mounted GE-Honda HF118 Turbofan Engines.  The HondaJet is 12.7 meters long, 12.2 meters wide and 4.1 meters high  It has a maximum speed of 778 km/hr (420 knots), an operational ceiling of 12,497 meters and a range of 2,037 km (1,100 miles).  The HondaJet also weighs 30% less than a fully optioned Harley Davidson Road King.


Press release photo of the new civilian HondaJet in flight.  Note the unique placement of the two high performance GE-Honda turbofan engines on mounts rising from the wing.


You've all heard the old children's jingle of "Birdy, birdy in the sky.  Why did you do that in my eye?  Thank the Lord that cows don't fly!"?  Well, Milwaukee is trying to do just that, folks!  Here is a press release photo of Harley Davidson's current (and first) aviation venture, the new "Ultra Skyglide," undergoing final test flight trials in an undisclosed vacant lot somewhere in Milwaukee.   Based on twenty years of constant wind tunnel testing and intensive aerodynamic study, corporate sources say that the new "Ultra Skyglide" is a joint venture, with Harley Davidson working on the air frame while Schwinn works on the engines.  When asked if the "Ultra Skyglide" would be belt driven, the HD spokesperson replied that all "Ultra Skyglides" would be "Rubber Band-Driven."   A chain drive, developed by Schwinn and utilizing ten different speeds, was ultimately rejected due to increasing complexity issues.  The new "Ultra Skyglide" will be jam-packed with traditional Motor Company heritage and a HD spokesperson assures us that the Motor Company is "building the Ultra Skyglide just like we build our bikes, using the same technology and the same exacting tolerances."  A large amount of performance parts and design accessories will be available through all dealerships and lifestyle boutiques so that the owners of the new "Ultra Skyglide" can fully customize their "air hawg."  A larger, full dresser version is expected to be sold under the name "Sky King" and will feature a windshield.  Sources say the new Harley "Ultra Skyglide" will have a very distinct sound, like a powerful jet, and will almost certainly cost three to four times what the new HondaJet is expected to cost.


Do you know why Harley Davidson doesn't build a jet airplane, Bill?  It's because they can't

Do you know why Honda does build a jet plane?  It's because they can

Oh, sure, if Harley followed some of its earlier business failures (i.e. "Holiday Rambler") I suppose it could buy up some company like Gulfstream then slap one of their bar and shield logo emblems on the plane, litter the interior with leather and chrome then sell it as a "HD Edition Gulfstream" for twice what a normal Gulfstream would normally go for and do you know what?  It would probably sell to people who had far more money than common sense (the same way and only reason that their motorcycles currently sell).  But the point is that while Honda is actually making their own jet planes, Harley would not be making their own jet planes.  They would, once again, be prostituting their logo on something that they didn't build (another standard operating procedure of The Motor Company). 

Honda is a leader in technology and cutting edge innovation.  Harley is the anti-thesis of that, the nadir of Honda.  Honda builds reality, Harley builds make-believe.

The fact that you think that Harley will be around longer than Honda is just another facet of your sad delusion and an interesting look into the make believe world that you have not only locked yourself inside of but you've apparently thrown away the key as well.  Honda has been kicking Harley's ass in America for decades, let alone out in the world.  I really don't see any indication from Milwaukee that the hillbillies will ever overcome that let alone figure out how Honda managed to do that in the first place.

Harley has been around since the early 1900’s and it’s still number two in its own parent country. Even when all the other domestic competition died out and Harley was the only, last remaining American motorcycle manufacturer, Honda came into America, set up shop and did things right from the beginning. That’s when Honda became the number one retailer of motorcycles in America and Harley, the only American manufacturer (at the time) became the number two.  That's how it's been for a long time, how it is today and how it will be for a long time coming.  I personally think that Harley has reached its peak and they are on the decline now.  This is the part of the flight where Harley has run out of gas and it coasting along, it will start to drop soon (in the next few years) and then the plunge will get steeper and steeper as the years drag on.  Lawyers and government grants can't save Harley again; the Bad Wolf is going to get the three little pigs the second time around.

Oh, and just to reinforce the point... here is a graphic that I had a friend make up for me.  I got so tired of seeing the "#1" Harley logo plastered everywhere, especially when they aren't number one (at least not outside the trailer park) so I decided it was time to create a new graphic, one more truthful.  I plan on getting a few of these done up as gifts, maybe make a few custom T-shirts.

Traditionally, second place has always been reserved for the first loser. 
I'd hate for Harley to break with tradition and heritage.

What has to really, really suck, Bill, is to know that not only are you supporting failure but you’re riding a product built by a company that has made losing into a way of doing business.  Harley is the only company in the world who has actually managed to turn losing into profit which shows you how backwards they are.  Harley’s so good at losing because it’s the only thing they can do right and they’ve done it for so long that it’s become second hand to them.  The only reason people believe in Harley Davidson is because they don't know better.

“Later Cheesedick, oh yeah by the way come up to Double Vision Bar and Grill in Hiram, Ga (located on Hwy 6) in Hiram,Ga. Take I-20 out of Atlanta west and get off at Hwy 278, go 10-12 miles turn on Hwy120 and look for Hwy 6, turn left and then left into the parking lot. Just come in and park your Japscrap in front of the HD's and we will see whose ponytail you try to jerk-off.”

The Double Vision Bar and Grill?
How quaint.  Am I to understand that you're actually inviting me to a honky-tonk juke joint that has a whole bunch of Harleys parked out front (which, I guess, also qualifies the place as a motorcycle junkyard as well, probably of the “you-pull-it” variety)? Tell me, Bill, do they rent videos and sell bait / tackle there as well? Probably. I guess the only thing missing from the premises is a beauty shop, a tanning bed and coin operated laundry. 
It's probably the kind of place that has "Pointers" written on the door of the men's room and "Sitters" written on the door to the ladies room.

Do you know what, Bill? Violence is such a double edged sword for Harley owners; you have to use it to protect your lifestyle yet if you ever do resort to using violence, you're screwed.  You threaten and fluff up, hoping other people will be so intimidated by your peacocking that they won’t look very deep or see through your comically shallow façade while at the same time, if you ever do actually resort to physical violence, you automatically validate everything that I have said about you.  Yes, you strut around with this bad-ass biker attitude which is all the more funny since you don't actually own a bad ass bike.  A Harley Davidson and its owner is Milwaukee's version of a puffer fish, with leather and studs instead of spines.  When in danger of being found out or ridiculed, you huff up to five times your normal size in the hope that predators will leave you alone and move on to easier prey.  Nature has many creatures like you, with dangerous markings to deter would be predators when the creature itself has no real defense against anything.  You rely on a false image to protect you.


Physical violence is both your greatest defense and your greatest weakness but then that’s the danger of having a life that is so deeply rooted in pure make-believe; not everything is as it seems. The truth be known, most Harley owners are pansies.  It's hard to be frightened of some old geezer on an outdated, slow ass bike, a geezer who looks like he's more of a threat to the "all you can eat breakfast bar" at Shoney's than he is to me.  For what it's worth, now that I’ve completely shaved my head (and the only hair above my shoulders are my eyebrows and my goatee), I’m far more likely to suffer the same fate as poor Aeschylus did than I am to meet any great bodily harm at the hands of some unruly Harley owner.

Do you like to pretend, Bill? 

Of course you like to pretend, after all, you own a Harley!  Pretending, as part of your own particular illusory consensus reality, is a way of life for you! 

Okay, let's pretend, for the sake of the argument, let's pretend that I am going to ride from the south-western corner of Mississippi all the way over to Hiram, Georgia (it's not like I’ve got a lot of free time but okay, since we're pretending let’s just make believe that I do have enough spare time that I can actually make our dinner date).  The question isn't could (or would) I ride that far on my Honda but rather what's in it for me to do so?  What makes the Double Vision Bar, Grill and Junkyard any different than a thousand other roadside joints just like it?  There are twenty bar and grills with sporadic import and domestic biker populations within two hours riding distance of where I live so why would I want to ride all the way to Hiram, GA for something that I can get here with a lot less effort, in a far shorter time and with a lot less expense?

Would it be to impress you?  Oh, please!  We've already discussed your relevance and how insignificant you are in my life.  Does the Double Vision have the best flame grilled steaks in the world?  Is the whiskey there any better than I can get locally (I take my whiskey neat, from the bottle when I'm thirsty, from a shot glass when I'm more inclined to be civilized or I'm with someone and willing to share).  Do the hillbillies at the Double Vision Bar, Grill, and Junkyard know how to make sweet tea, Southern style?  Do they have really good home-made bread there to go with the steak and potato? 


I doubt that the Double Vision is renowned for their steaks or their food, if they are, then that news apparently hasn't reached Mississippi yet let alone traveled far enough for them to brag about being "world famous."  I doubt you can get anything there that is of a culinary level much above "Hot Pockets" or "Ore Ida" for dinner and "Eggo" or "Kellogs" for breakfast.  Even the name sounds ridiculous and clichéd but since "Hooters" was already taken by copyright and "Hawgs and dawgs" just didn't seem to bring in the right kind of customers, I guess the owners took the best that they could think up and ran with it; "Double Vision."  I think that name could more aptly be termed a side effect from riding a vibration prone Harley Davidson long distances rather than a condition brought about from drinking too much liquor as the Harleys that I've had the misfortune to ride in my life would rattle your eyeballs in your skull like two ping pong balls in a Mason jar.

So, let's pretend!  Yes!  Let's pretend, for your argument's sake, that I do show up, at your request, and that we (somehow) all get along without wrecking the place or you, me and all of your hillbilly friends getting carried by ambulance to triage at the local band-aid center.  It would be a real shame to trash the Double Vision Bar, Grill and Junkyard because it really does sound like that place is the cultural, societal and possibly political epicenter of your small agrarian collective.  I feel sure, given my background in economics and my understanding of the history of civilization, that the loss of the Double Vision Bar, Grill, and Junkyard would have an immeasurable negative financial impact on your village, a blow from which your trailer park barter based economy might never fully recover (which means that, like Harley Davidson, you all might just have to apply for government aid in order to financially survive). 

Now, I know it will be a real challenge for you to think with the head on top of your shoulders instead of the one dangling between your legs but I feel confident that you might can do it for just one night and even then, if for only a few short hours.  So, I'm going to ride to Hiram, Jaw-jah on my Honda CBR600RR and I'm going to hang out with you and your friends (which you describe as both real men and real bikes even though you rent what little masculinity you have and your bikes are a world class joke).

Man, what a God-awful boring as hell night that would be!

Just imagine it!  You all would be sitting around hooting and hollering as you watch some tangle eyed, B-cupped, bottle dyed, GED-lacking, lot lizard grind her tanning bed bronzed boney hips against a tarnished brass pole to barely understandable old Whitesnake or Foreigner tracks or you’d be watching and talking about some kind of professional sports of one kind or another; a subject I have little interest in and choose not to keep up with at all. We wouldn’t have any common ground upon which to converse, I’m afraid, as the things which you think are important I scoff at and dismiss as the placation of the dullard spawned pop culture. I doubt any of you could discuss theology, politics, economics (beyond the simple ideas of "buy American" and "imports suck"), quantum physics, history, engineering, computer science or any form of technology.  If we talked about cars and bikes (as opposed to monster trucks and tractor pulls), we couldn't talk about anything built past 1980 as those would have computers as part of the design (and you've already adamantly stated how you feel about computers and technology being part of what you drive or ride).  Sure, there would be heroic binges of drinking, manly challenges to see who could hold their liquor or water the longest, lots of unoriginal if good natured cursing, chest beating, tall tales no one would really believe unless they were stone stinking drunk, fat waitresses to smack on the ass as they waddle by, big titty oogling (of same fat waitresses), betting your welfare stipends and shooting lots of pool.  There would be lots of people smoking cheap cigarettes out of a vending machine near the door, listening to bad country music through a beat up juke box, watching an unscheduled wet T-shirt contest, and maybe even some empty glass and beer bottle throwing to get other people’s attention over the general din and roar of this veritable hillbilly banquet.

You’d probably end the evening by stumbling drunkenly outside to your Harley, supported between me and one of your friends while you climb on your Hog mumbling some drunken idiotic banter like “Hey, Christopher! I had a lot of fun tonight! You’re all right, you know that? A bit quiet, but you’re all right for a Honda owner. Oh, Hell, I’m sorry about that damn email I sent you. I was just talking out my ass, you know.  Come on over here and give me a big hug, bro. Yeah. Well, you be careful on that little scooter, ya hear?  You gotta hell of a long ride ahead of you back home.  Me?  Oh, don't worry about me none ... I'm a tough old coot.  I'll get home okay.  Always do.  Besides...  I gotta wake my ass up at six AM every day of this week and drag myself over to Doerun. Yeah, I'm doing the drywall at the new McDonalds there.”  Invariably, I’d be bored out of my highly developed, formally educated mind.  I would end up going home many, many hours later smelling like a combination of sweat factory, distillery and crematorium, all with absolutely nothing to show for my experience but a belly full of unremarkable steak, watered down whiskey and a far lighter wallet.  I probably wouldn't even have a good story to tell when I got back to Mississippi.  People would ask me how it was and I would be able to sum it up in one word; "hackneyed."

Overall, I thank you for the cordial invitation to join you for some banjo and fiddle riddled revelry but I'm afraid that I really must politely decline.


Well, I know that (as a married man and a father of just one child) I have far better and far more important things to do than hang out all night at a bar pretending to be something and someone that I am not.  However, after reading your email, I would never make that same assumption of you.  Your life must monumentally suck, Bill, if you have a family yet your best friend in the whole world is your Harley Davidson Superglide and you spend your nights hanging out getting drunk with other beer gutted, Rogaine using middle age losers at the local redneck strip joint.   Yes, you have to seriously question the behavior and moral direction of a man who is 37 years old, who claims to have three kids, rides a big Harley, and hangs out in bars with other men while his kids stay at their double-wide and wonder where their father is and when he's coming home.  In hindsight, perhaps if you had kept your penis on a chain, you know, like you do your wallet, then your life might be a far better one than you currently suffer and you wouldn't have to pretend to be something that you aren't just to be able to temporarily escape from the ever living hell that you have made for yourself. 

I feel sorry for the kids, as probably the only time they actually do get to see you is Sunday morning when you come staggering out of the drunk tank at the sheriff's office, smelling like beer and piss and the first thing you want to know where your Harley is.  You say that you have three kids but I find that a little bit hard to believe.  Just because you have three kids doesn't mean you're a father (or their father for that matter).  Any 37 year old man” (and I use the term rather loosely in your case) who worships his Harley like you do and spends his spare time in bars can’t be very much of a father, if you’re around for the children at all.  Notice I said "the" instead of "your."  Just because you knock up a woman doesn't automatically make you a father, Bill.  Being a father is a serious job, it is a career in and of itself and I just don't see you as having either the skills or experience to fill the post. 

After all, being a father (unlike your riding experience) isn't something that you can pretend to be.  It's not a patch you can sew onto your vest, it's not a decal you can put in the rear window of your pickup truck...  No, as much as you like to hang out in bars, I’d seriously suggest that you do a paternity test on each of your kids as soon as you can. Chances are, while you were out riding your Harley, some other beer gutted loser was in your bed riding your woman. After all, logic dictates that if she’ll let you fuck her, then she’ll pretty much let anything or anyone fuck her because you definitely prove that whoever she is, the poor woman really doesn’t have any self esteem or standards worth mentioning.

“But I bet with all your web-posting you spend a lot of time jerking off now don't you??”

If I spent a lot of time working on my website then, logically, I wouldn't have a lot of time for extended sprees of Onanism, now would I?  It's kind of hard to type one handed but even if I had to, I believe that I would still be faster on a keyboard than you are and that I would make fewer mistakes as well.  I swear that Harley owners have got to be some of the dumbest people to ever walk God's green Earth.  It never ceases to amaze me that  idiots like you think I spend a lot of time on my websites when the truth is that I spend very little time.  Idiots like you humorously equate lots of words with lots of work, which is not only wrong but goes far in showing just how ignorant and uneducated you truly are.  Once again, you're comparing the world to your capabilities and limitations which shows that not only do you really think a lot of yourself, but that you're clueless when it comes to your actual self worth in the cosmic all.  When you set the standards by which other people can or cannot perform based on your own capacity and capabilities, you're really having to lower the bar considerably.  Just because it would take you a long time to two finger peck out a badly written reply full of gross misspelling and lackluster grammar doesn't mean that it takes me a long time to produce a far superior product.

You see, Bill, I can think and type on the fly, my humor and my wit are both spontaneous and reactive.  I have a high rate of (accurate) words per minute that I can produce and my intellect allows me to blow huge smoking and gaping holes in your ludicrous system of personal beliefs, a set of personal beliefs that (like the laughable product they are based around) never change, from person to person or from year to year.  I don't have to spend a lot of time on my websites to get my point across or to ridicule idiots because dealing with sub-intellectual pap smears like you is simply neither difficult or time consuming.  Your silly beliefs are so simple and repetitive that I've even listed all of them by number and defined them for what they stand for, finite and simple that they are.

It's not my fault that you're slow in every aspect of your life but if your email is any indication of your mental capacity, a lot of your problems are willingly assumed by choice and not suffered by unfortunate circumstance.  It must be terrible to actually aspire to be stupid, Bill.  I pity people like you, truly I do.


Later Barney!!!!!



Later, twat mop.  Thanks for the laughs.


Christopher T. Shields