Fuck Me Twice
February 06, 2016
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Part I: Backstory
I lived inward a fairly fossil oil neighborhood inward West Philadelphia during the mid-90s. Rough plenty for me to endure concerned well-nigh my lily white donkey the solar daytime they read the OJ Simpson verdict. I volition never forget the uproar in addition to clamor of joy that shook the foundations of the community every bit they announced: "We the jury abide by the defendant, Orenthal James Simpson non guilty of murder.". People were dancing inward the streets, setting off fireworks left over from July fourth (couldn't afford to waste matter the ammo shooting anything else), corking empty Laser malt liquor bottles in addition to celebrating every bit if their twoscore acres in addition to a mule had in conclusion come upwards through. It sent a shake upwards my spine to watch what mightiness accept happened had the verdict been guilty. Someone tagged a wall nigh my edifice with the chilling statement: "If OJ burns, Philly burns.".
The slice of shit motorbike I rode at the fourth dimension was the remains of a 1976 Suzuki GT380, dubbed "The Skunk" past times an one-time girlfriend. The name's important was two-fold, starting fourth dimension it came from the crappy rattle-can dark with a white stripe downward the top pigment project I did on the gas tank, secondly from the cloud of fume the two-stroke triple liked to belch forth whenever the trammel was opened. I was unaware of how to properly adapt an oil injection heart inward those days, in addition to since it was only the drivers behind me that had to bargain with the smokescreen, I left good plenty alone. Cut downward on the tailgating.
I rode this affair 400 miles from upstate NY to Philadelphia, losing the kickstart lever patch passing through Syracuse. Lack of electrical start meant I had to bump it off at every fuel stop. I shout out upwards a bunch of middle-aged dudes riding Goldwings laughing at me every bit I ran alongside, in addition to then jumped on the luggage laden machine in addition to allow out the clutch lever, praying it would fire. (If you lot are unfamiliar with proper motorbike bump-start technique, read well-nigh it here.) The shocks were shot, the front end forks weeped oil, helping the bike cause similar a U-Haul with vi apartment tires on an iced over slalom course. The tachometer didn't work, the speedometer read 65mph at a standstill, it may accept had brakes but I never genuinely felt them create anything. The spot was recovered with vinyl fabric from a 1971 Volkswagen Super Beetle that I accidentally assail sack inward my backyard (story for some other time). It had newish tires on it, installed past times a dealer who didn't bother to residue them, when I asked why the service director said, "You desire us to residue the wheels on that thing?". Needless to say it danced merely about pretty proficient when you lot striking well-nigh 65 (or 130 mph according to the wacky speedo). But it was paid for ($300!), it ran ok, in addition to it was all mine.
Not for long.
I lived inward a fairly fossil oil neighborhood inward West Philadelphia during the mid-90s. Rough plenty for me to endure concerned well-nigh my lily white donkey the solar daytime they read the OJ Simpson verdict. I volition never forget the uproar in addition to clamor of joy that shook the foundations of the community every bit they announced: "We the jury abide by the defendant, Orenthal James Simpson non guilty of murder.". People were dancing inward the streets, setting off fireworks left over from July fourth (couldn't afford to waste matter the ammo shooting anything else), corking empty Laser malt liquor bottles in addition to celebrating every bit if their twoscore acres in addition to a mule had in conclusion come upwards through. It sent a shake upwards my spine to watch what mightiness accept happened had the verdict been guilty. Someone tagged a wall nigh my edifice with the chilling statement: "If OJ burns, Philly burns.".
The slice of shit motorbike I rode at the fourth dimension was the remains of a 1976 Suzuki GT380, dubbed "The Skunk" past times an one-time girlfriend. The name's important was two-fold, starting fourth dimension it came from the crappy rattle-can dark with a white stripe downward the top pigment project I did on the gas tank, secondly from the cloud of fume the two-stroke triple liked to belch forth whenever the trammel was opened. I was unaware of how to properly adapt an oil injection heart inward those days, in addition to since it was only the drivers behind me that had to bargain with the smokescreen, I left good plenty alone. Cut downward on the tailgating.
I rode this affair 400 miles from upstate NY to Philadelphia, losing the kickstart lever patch passing through Syracuse. Lack of electrical start meant I had to bump it off at every fuel stop. I shout out upwards a bunch of middle-aged dudes riding Goldwings laughing at me every bit I ran alongside, in addition to then jumped on the luggage laden machine in addition to allow out the clutch lever, praying it would fire. (If you lot are unfamiliar with proper motorbike bump-start technique, read well-nigh it here.) The shocks were shot, the front end forks weeped oil, helping the bike cause similar a U-Haul with vi apartment tires on an iced over slalom course. The tachometer didn't work, the speedometer read 65mph at a standstill, it may accept had brakes but I never genuinely felt them create anything. The spot was recovered with vinyl fabric from a 1971 Volkswagen Super Beetle that I accidentally assail sack inward my backyard (story for some other time). It had newish tires on it, installed past times a dealer who didn't bother to residue them, when I asked why the service director said, "You desire us to residue the wheels on that thing?". Needless to say it danced merely about pretty proficient when you lot striking well-nigh 65 (or 130 mph according to the wacky speedo). But it was paid for ($300!), it ran ok, in addition to it was all mine.
Not for long.
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| I accept no pictures of "The Skunk", but this is a GT380, to give you lot an idea. |