Thursday, May 01, 2008

I'm the devil in blue jeans..yes I am!

This new template is making me feel a little "how you say"... horny... no, not horny, but horny without the horn, sort of like a "bad assed Christian." Right now I'd like to smell a Hell's Angel, drive without my seat belt buckled, smoke in a public place, or get a tattoo.

Hey, I'm rocking. Spring is finally in the air, and I can't imagine all the shit I will get into if I keep feeling my oats like this. I might even pose for a picture on Gord's bike and pretend I actually went for a ride on it. I might take a Valium...if I could get my hands on one if I had to really ride with him. I think I will ask him to take me for a short ride this year, down to the end of the cul de sac and back. If I don't start to hyperventilate, he can turn around and we can go through the back lane of the other Bay and come back down our street. If I'm still good, he can actually go down Chancellor which is the the main road that leads to the rest of the city. If I don't make the trek where Chancellor hits the busy roads, I will ask him to stop at a bar just before we make that turn. I like the thought of he and I parking the bike in front of a bar and looking really tough, and going in for a brewski. Can you hear the chains rattling? Can you feel the danger in the air? He, with his fancy dancy leathers, and me with an ole hoody sweat shirt and pants and wearing an old helmet he found in the garbage from WW2. Yeah...I'm a pretty thang!!

When we go into the bar, I imagine, I will take my WW2 helmet off and suddenly look dangerous just like him in his gay leathers. After all, I am covered in food stains and dog hair, that should account for something. Ya think?

We sit down. The bar keep comes over and...says "what can I get you folks,"....and Gord decks the bastard...and says..we aren't folks, we are "bikers" and we deserve some respect. The bar keep gets up and says ...."yes sir"....what ever you want...it's on the house. Then we drink a lot of beer, fart on our way out and drive back home...which is only two blocks. I love living on the edge.

I'm thinking my neighbours will be looking at me with much more respect this year, when they realise I am a little more dangerous than they thought I was. (hide your children.) on Peacock Place.

5 comments:

Brenda said...

Lookin fine in yer faded denim Miz Joan. I didn't lose it until I got to, "me with an ole hoody sweat shirt and pants and wearing an old helmet he found in the garbage from WW2. Yeah...I'm a pretty thang!!"

Donna said...

I know it's risky stopping in here...all I've got to say is...Yes MAM!!!LOL...Happy weekend sweetie....I MEAN....MAM!!hughugs

Mary Lou said...

ok Baloney, what did you do with Joan while I was gone?

canuckabilly said...

Hey those jeans are HOT!!. what a hoot and the post prior to this one had me in stitches as do most of yours. How can anyone not love someone like you.

Sally said...

I think it would be cool to be you - a biker babe! Livin' on the edge, you crack me up!!!!!!!!!