I  never really believed I was a biker, until I found myself riding on a wet and windy Friday evening thru heavy traffic, shouting random obscenities at hapless drivers , who's only discernible crime seemed to be choosing a different mode of transport to mine. Up to that I had been meandering thru life with careless abandon, silently mocking those who admitted in hushed tones, that they needed the crutch of support groups to prop up their floundering existence. The aggressiveness of my traffic induced bouts of profanity suggested the need for the stabling influence of a group of like-minded souls. So it came to pass that I found myself adopted by the cyber clan of Cyclefish.
                                                                                   I do not intend to mention any member by name, as that would be tantamount to outing a brother/sister as an S.U.V lover, but our wee group stands for a hyperspace metaphor of life itself. In our time we have discussed, in an intelligent and dignified manner, the existence of God, our favourite BBQ sauce, Obama’s brass neck and his penchant for taxation, Irelands status in what we all decided was ludicrous sport anyway, although as there were some soccer fans on the forum, the final analysis was inconclusive.
                                              You can travel thru pages of motorcycle comment and still be undecided on the benefits of Goodyear or Dunlop tyres. Pages have been written on customising a bike, some of which have featured prominently on our homepage. Drunks and gamblers and hooligans are well catered for, as many members delight in telling how they miss-spent their youth. We have active cruiser and sport-bike riders who communicate regularly and enthusiastically, although sometimes with rather predictable rhetoric. We have delusional shovelhead fanatics who have been caught in some kind of cosmic time warp where Neil Armstrong kicks lumps out of an unsuspecting lunar landscape. We even have a solitary representative of the Kingdom of Aberdeen, who’s sense of humour can at best be infectious, at worst be downright baffling.
                               If you are of a devious disposition and hoping to generate an argument, the mere mention of gun control or border security will indeed have the desired effect. The mere insertion of either appellation  has a similar effect as a dose of salts  has on the digestive tract. Seething with resentment and anger, supporters and detractors alike will gather in furious debate, which will only end on the intervention of the admin team with a warning  or a ban, the hyperspace equivalent of being sent to bed without supper. From the secure platform of practised indifference, you can visualise the tortured expressions and eye-popping pique of the contributors. But like any family conflict, order is restored when the attending parent (we call them “mods” though some have been accused of replacing M with G) issues a decree and after some established entreaties have been articulated, the collective indignation dissipates Its all here on one easily accessed site.

The wise and the witless...
the rambler and the gambler....
tactically aware and devil may care.....
the joker the smoker and the rib poking porker.....
some Aussie-men, Irishmen and sweet home Alabama-men....
students with nothing to do and even a Scot or two.....
 ranting and raving and Mexican waving....
Rock and the Blues and some lovely tattoos....
fundraising events and rock concerts in tents.....
views myopic and discussing off topic....language vitriolic...are we all patriotic ?.
some peculiar strangers and ex-army rangers....
edge of seat drama and the great Dalai Lama...
badgers and dogs and men from the bogs..................and young fellas acting the fool !!!

Its just like real life here, without the inconvenience of physical interaction or the responsibility of accountability.


Footnote 1. I was kidding about the Dalai Lama.

Footnote 2 . Amazing what a bottle of Chianti can do !

Footnote 3 . If anyone ever sees me at a computer again with a bottle of Chianti, slowly take it from my hand ...and hit me over the head with it.

dido

Have another bottle!

Outstanding Neil!!! What brand of Chianti is it??? I should only hope to be so inspired and poetic! BRAVO!

Well done.     Hats off...or helmets, bandanas...  You are creative and highly intellectual.    and I am happy to be in this cyberspace with you.  Was that Chianti sipped or gulped? 

... or savored?

eh ...?

Very well said!

Very well done Rory.

 Holy Shit! The way you stuck all them words together has gotta have DEFCON turning absolutely GREEN with envy! SHEW!!!  That was SWEET!

CHUGGED!

Rory1, your drawer is deep and your eloquent retrieval from it is probably only bested by an oratory version in your native brogue.

AND, it made me smile....Thanks, was good timing...

hahahahahaha Derek I think fait accompli...it was chugged.

Bravo!!!!

Uhhhhhh!! Fantastic!! You hit it out of the park!! As Sidetrack said....BRAVO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was meant as a kind of funny "happy birthday...thank you" to Lucky...I think the Chianti must have been fed intravenously, judging by my head this morning !!! I get 5 gallon drums of "loose wine" from an italian guy I work with every now and then...as any Italian will tell you, it is the best you can get, tho its after-effects can be interesting to say the least... the wordcraft comes from being involved in politics for ten years (you learn how to bullshit!).anyways, "happy birthday" lucky.

fair play ta ya, neil, fantastic loose tongue... or typing!
as the saying goes in Latin: 'in vino veritas' [= ingestion of wine produces truth]!

Oddly enough, I have been thinking many of these same things this last month, though not nearly as poetically. As others have said, an amazing job. And really only one bottle of chianti? Or is that what you are calling the 5 gallon drum these days... Bottle.

Man, all I can say is WOW! As well as what everyone else said. Just simply OUTSTANDING!!!

All I can say is I’m dumb struck at your wordmenship. Great job I can only think of what you may be capable of with an upgraded in the bottle of sprits.

naw, he would only fight wid the wife, meaning he would have ta sleep in the doghouse... or the garage wid the bikes, if he's lucky!