How about this one:
Here's to the brothers and sisters alike,
who rode like dipsh*ts on their sportbikes.
They pushed their limits to go a bit faster,
and now they're dead, those stupid bastards.
This is what I want on my headstone:
Here lies my friend, who came to his end,
while dragging his knee around a bend.
He got in too hot, too late for the brakes,
drifted wide on his exit and now he is paste.
Call me sick, insensitive, morbid, whatever...I don't care. If you ride a bike, you also accept a certain amount of risk and responsibility. In my opinion, there is a huge difference between *wrecks* and *accidents*. Accidents happen, but wrecks can be avoided by using some common sense. I really don't feel too terrible for the dickhead who is screaming down the road at a buck forty and slaps the side of a car, or the putz who buys a Hayabusa for his first bike, throws on the chrome dunce cap, t-shirt & shorts, and wads it into a guardrail while trying to break the sound barrier.
Blah...blah...blah.
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-Paul
If God dropped acid, would he see people?
