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"I, Motorcyclist"

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  • "I, Motorcyclist"

    Hey guys just an article from the “Australian MotorCycle News” magazine a few weeks back, had a few laughs so thought I’d share it, happy reading.

    I, motorcyclist, am better than you, driver.


    In every way, and by any measure you’d care to make, I am better than you. That is what accounts for my smug, self-satisfied grin as I carve past you in traffic with unsurpassed grace and incomparable `elan.

    Of course, you cannot see my smile, because you are sealed inside your stinking, crawling cage being spoonfed your idiot opinions via the radio and being a little bit outraged at the disdain I display for the apparent might of your car…… and secretly wishing you were a 10th as cool as me.

    Perhaps you even tell yourself that one day…. One day, when the kids leave home and wife gives you permission, you’ll consider, in the vaguest way, entertaining a notion that would see you make a vague commitment that might eventually lead to you actually owning a motorcycle. One day.

    Or maybe you’re far too busy texting on your oxymoronically –named smartphone to even register me joyously turning you into my bitch – especially when you’re in a car that costs 10 times more than my bike, but doesn’t offer you even 100th of the pleasure that I get every day. Either way, while you’re drowning out the universe and sealing yourself off from the glorious world by any and all means possible, I, Motorcyclist, am the living, sparkling, roaring and irremediably awesome avatar of everything that is meaningful in being a human, and drinking deeply from the overflowing cup of life.

    Yes it is true that what I do is sublimely dangerous. It is fraught with dire peril at every turn and potential disaster dogs every revolution of my wheels. And that is why I live. For to risk greatly is to live utterly. And while it may somehow satisfy you to simply exit in a coffin filled with artificial air and the odour of chemicals designed to replicate vanilla cookies, I can assure you that does not do it for me and those like me. Can thus even have the temerity to wonder why I, Motorcyclists, hold you in such utter and complete contempt? I have sympathy for the homeless and the starving and the disease-afflicted- but for you, Driver, prisoner of your own cowardice and desperation, I have nothing but illimitable contempt.

    Do you find it strange that no matter what the weather, I, Motorcyclist, am out there, sniffing back the snot, or blinking away the rain, or staring wild-eyed through a visor fogged with my own familiar breath as I dice willingly with death and laugh happily in the face of my oft-promised doom?

    Well don’t wonder. There’s no point. I could not explain it to you in a way you could ever understand. You’re just too stupid. You must be. Otherwise you would be riding a motorcycle and wondering, like, me, what kind of abominable demon so reduces a man as to cause him to drive rather than ride, while his manhood languishes in some tightly sealed jar that is closely supervised be his sexless wife.

    You see, I, Motorcyclists, know some things about your condition that you, Driver, don’t want me to know. I know these things because, but for a conscious decision on my part not to emasculate myself in a futile act of appeasement, I would be just like you.

    But I am not. I am on occasion be so impossibly terrified that I forget to breathe. I may have lost friends. I may have lost jobs. I may have lost jobs. I may have even lost my mind a time or two. But I, Motorcyclist, have never lost the desire to live on my own terms. And I have never taken the insultingly short life we have been granted for granted. For that is simply unforgivable in this world and the next. And this uncompromising drive for self-gratification via a simple set of handlebars, a pair of wheels and a basic motor has seen me rewarded in ways which would cripple your self-esteem even further.

    I have laughed with the greatest of men.

    I have shared in the mightiest of adventures.

    I have braved the most searing hardships .

    And I, Motorcyclist, have danced upon the blade of a knife with my heart in my throat and the bike seat in my arse and thought it magnificent.
    All this and more I have done while you, you miserable, soft-bellied excuse for a man, have driven a car.

    That is your legacy and that is how you have squandered your time upon this earth – in an awkwardly mobile prison, sold to you as some kind of social status symbol, and amateurishly steered around the country to a soundtrack of whining and mewling and hectoring. You have forever denied yourself the grace and glory that is motorcyclists when it is done with bright love and sweet madness – and this why, I, Motorcyclist, am forever so much better than you.
    And you know it.

    Written by Boris Mihailovic

  • #2
    Ive liked it, rated it 5 stars, shared it on fb and saved it to my pc. Really can't think of anything else to do.
    How do blind people know when to stop wiping?

    Comment


    • #3
      Originally posted by Kia View Post
      Ive liked it, rated it 5 stars, shared it on fb and saved it to my pc. Really can't think of anything else to do.
      Congratulations, Kony. You made a difference.

      Comment


      • #4
        He, Motorcyclist, has his head so far up his own arse he sounds like a reject script from a b-grade action flick.
        It didn't look that far on the map...

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        • #5
          Originally posted by Desmo View Post
          Congratulations, Kony. You made a difference.
          Gold.

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          • #6
            This is pretty cool

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            • #7
              I just finished reading "My Mother warned me about blokes like me" Written by Boris Mihailovic, and it's not a bad read, if you like that artical you will defenetly get a kick out of the story's Boris tells in his book.

              Click image for larger version

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              • #8
                And yet he wasn't out surfing.

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                • #9
                  Originally posted by Kia View Post
                  Ive liked it, rated it 5 stars, shared it on fb and saved it to my pc. Really can't think of anything else to do.
                  Just be cool bro,
                  kick back , blast arround on that murdercycle you got there and be wayyyy cool.
                  REPENT MOTHER FUCKER
                  (anarchy in english )

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                  • #10
                    Boris is nothing more than an angry, mouthy hack.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      hahahhahaah oh god thats funny. yes yes i agree.
                      oh
                      I am crying here
                      REPENT MOTHER FUCKER
                      (anarchy in english )

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                      • #12
                        Originally posted by Desmo View Post
                        Boris is nothing more than an angry, mouthy hack.
                        Wow, strong words from our normally timorous Exmouth correspondant.

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                        • #13
                          Wow! After reading that piece of self indulgent drivel I once again mourn the passing of Mr Smith, R.I.P. and remember his eleventh commandment, which Boris would do well to familiarize himself with,

                          "Thou shall not kid thyself"
                          They hung a sign up in our town "If you live it up, you won't live it down"-Tom Waits

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                          • #14
                            I do think he went a bit over board at times, to summarize "there is not better feeling than riding a motorcycle, knowing the amount of speed and power available , feeling the wind rush by, slicing through traffic and beating any car off the red light.

                            Hope you all had a few laughs reading the article "seeing the funny side" ))

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                            • #15
                              Boris has a history of being a loud, arrogant eastern bloc douchebag.

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