Friday, April 16, 2010

...burning chrome

a random turn on the walk hole can change everything.

and I just happened to turn past baruch on my way home.

tons of bikes lie there in the evening hours.

my cash money bet is alot of accounting majors double as squids at night.

anyways, rarely does one of baruch's lame crotch rockets raise a bastard's eyebows,


I had to stop for this beastie.

now I've made no bones about my love of the ducati monster.

I think when the teacher bought one last season, I died a little bit inside.

but this bile was pretty as it glinted in the evening sun, around the din of students hanging out before whatever comes next on a Wednesday.

—the bastard


The Teacher said...

Well, the teacher dropped her monster and broke off her right side mirror. She cried like a baby, but realized it would eventually happen. I believe the Bastard will ride again someday.

bastard central said...

well we all drop our bike from time to time.

some just drop our bikes harder than others.

and the bastard WILL ride again