Tuesday, January 20, 2004

torque, and my growing impatience

Just got back from the South Bay. No sleep in sight, too much coffee. How much wine does it take to counteract two cups of coffee and two shots of espresso? And an apple crisp?

Met up with MNR for a ride to movie night--- Torque.
This movie would have just been a rental, had it not been for the chance to see it Mystery Science Theater-style with about fifteen other motorcyclists. (and some random goth chick, but you can't have everything) Mayhem before the movie led to popcorn and rootbeer everywhere, a boot in the face, and a broken armrest. I thought Texans would have better manners than that? Isn't there some sort of "southern gentleman" clause in your contract?

Highlights of this movie include:
harleys that actually run
a goth chick with a drooling problem who likes to rub herself against the walls of men's restrooms
quick release exhaust cans for melee weapons
bikini bike wash (I really need to find one. My bike is filthy)
Sportbikes that turn into dirtbikes whenever they get near dirt. (This is my DREAM bike.)
the most realistic thing in the whole movie- a thong shot
the line "what is it about driving cars that makes you all such assholes?"
People having sex with their helmets ON. I've always thought guys look better with their gear on. I see a bike go by, it's sexy. But if same guy comes back and takes his helmet off... disappointment 90% of the time. Don't make me reach for the paper bag.

after the movie, most of us went to Denny's for PIE. mmmmm, PIE...

As a complete side note, I've noticed that I've become increasingly impatient with people over the past few months. With a few exceptions, I'm less and less willing to wait for people or chase them down. I know this is California, and I keep hearing that in California, everyone is flaky. But, I am a native Californian (yes, there are a few of us floating around), and I am not flaky.

But I'm tired of waiting. So if you're not suited up and ready to go, you'd better know a shortcut, or you'd better be quick enough to catch the fuck up. Or maybe you didn't really want to ride after all.
(I'm not really just talking about riding, just everything in general.)

Figure your shit out. And THEN call me, or don't. But I'm leaving, either way.

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