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Category: motorcycles

I’d Like to Meet His Tailor

I’d Like to Meet His Tailor

I suppose it would be profitable to own a motorcycle dealership in Karachi. I don’t think you’ll get a lot of upsells at checkout for helmets and leathers, however. Our hero is impeccably dressed, however, and with apologies to Warren Zevon, his hair is perfect. He’s obviously on his way to some high-powered job somewhere in Pakistan, like water buffalo wrangling or tea smuggling.

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Sometimes, There’s A Man…

Sometimes, There’s A Man…

…sometimes, there’s a man, well, he’s the man for his time and place. He fits right in there. And that’s the Chariot Motorcycle Man, in North Dakota. And even if he’s a lazy man — and the Chariot Motorcycle Man was most certainly that. Quite possibly the laziest in North Dakota, which would place him high in the runnin’ for laziest worldwide. But sometimes there’s a man, sometimes, there’s a man.

Aw. I lost my train of thought here. But — aw, hell. I’ve done introduced him enough.

(Many thanks to Charles Schneider for sending this one along)

You Got Like Three Feet Of Air That Time

You Got Like Three Feet Of Air That Time

I’m relatively sure that you’re not supposed to ride a motorcycle off of a ski jump, but I’m no science-tician, so I really couldn’t tell you.

To my knowledge, it’s simply something you’re not supposed to do. It’s not on the same level as kicking the elderly or setting fire to an orphanage, but that doesn’t mean an angry mob won’t descend on your house if they catch wind of your ski jump tomfoolery. They’ll be armed with petitions instead of pitchforks, and they’ll politely ask you to stop instead of riding you out of town on a rail, but the threat is just as real.