I just updated my website with a story about riding a connie to Minneapolis, where I had to face my greatest enemy - my best friend's cat. To keep away from the horrid, malicious beast, I took the man out of the house by way of my motorcycle.
"Minneapolis is bastion (largely) of tolerance against a wall of Midwestern red states. It's a good thing, because when you put another man, (and one who stands six inches taller than you,) on the raised rear seat of your motorcycle, the usual surges of testosterone and unquestionable manhood of riding are gone, instead you feel like little spoon. To remove any ambiguity about my manhood, I removed my riding jacket and put on a different shirt, one that could leave no question in the minds of observers – the one with..."
Read the whole thing here:
www.behindbarsmotorcycle.com
