Hey, what about the Isle of Man? It is, in fact, a Man and an island, isn't it? Hmmm...
Yesterday a man on a motorcycle passed me on the highway. This is not unusual, as I am not really what you might call a fast driver. If I drive fast I have trouble typing, so I always drive slow. But, I digress. Allow me to begin again.
Yesterday a man on a motorcycle passed me on the highway. I was in the slow lane and he was in the middle lane, the "neither slow nor fast lane." We'll call it the baby bear lane (you know, like from Goldilocks and the Three Bears). Once again, I digress. Indulge me.
Yesterday a man on a motorcycle passed me on the highway. I was in the slow lane and he was in the middle lane. He was riding one of those classic-looking Harleys, not the chopper-style, just the regular motorcycle style (can you tell I'm not really a motorcycle guy? "Chopper" is pretty much the only motorcycle lingo I know. Well, that and "bitch seat". I don't condone the use of that term, It's just the only other term I know.) Oh dear. Last time, I swear.
Yesterday a man on a motorcycle passed me on the highway. I was in the slow lane and he was in the middle lane. He was riding one of those classic-looking Harleys and he was wearing a mandanna, flip flops, khaki shorts and a black and red, short-sleeved, silk shirt with a radical flame pattern. His shirt was completely unbuttoned.
There are several problems with this outfit when it is combined with motorcycle riding, but I'll not go into those. I want to focus on the shirt. I can picture in my mind's eye, just as he undoubtedly did, the vision of the cool guy on the motorcycle with his short hair blowing in the wind and his shirt flying behind him like some sort of easy rider freedom flag. In reality, however, his shirt did not do the really cool backward-flowing thing that you might picture, as I'm sure he pictured it. Instead, it blew straight up into the air and flapped all around his head. He looked like his head was on fire. It had to be terribly uncomfortably and inconvenient, not to mention dangerous. Nevertheless, he wouldn't stop to button it. He was holding on to the vision of coolness in his mind. Maybe he still imagined that it looked like that. It would be hard to tell from his perspective, I guess. It most assuredly did not look like that. Trust me.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
