You Got Like Three Feet Of Air That Time
Man, his mom’s gonna be pissed. I’m sure there used to be a nice patch of something right where he’s riding. It took her years to grow that crabgrass; nevertheless, our Portuguese-spewing friends have the right idea. Horticulture can’t hold a candle to 150cc of rope swinging action.
Dressed in his finest gym shorts and flip flops the newest honorary borderline sociopath soldiers on in the fight against gravity. The only way he could get any cooler is if his pornstache was also riding a dirt bike.
[Many thanks to the indispensable Charles Schneider for sending this one along]
3 thoughts on “You Got Like Three Feet Of Air That Time”
Man, this brings back some memories. We didn’t have a motorcycle swing, but we did have two tire swings, one of which went over a lower embankment and a firepit, and both of which pretty much guaranteed that you’d slam into a tree at some point during your swing. The trick was to try and maneuver yourself so you could kick off with your feet, or barring that, hit with your back. A motorcycle would have been a nice touch, though.
I see what you did there with the Johnnie Maine; my attorneys will be in touch…
Charlie Maine, Johnnie Maine…either way, you’ll be hearing from…actually Charlie Maine is pretty good. Never mind.
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