The Red Right Hand of Doom

Well kids, I've about had it. Running your own shop is great until you have to deal with the public. I've been lucky for the most part in regards to having really good customers who are reasonable in what they want you to do and appreciate good quality work at a fair price.

The problem are some of these total fucks I've been dealing with lately, to whom the word 'reasonable' has no meaning. Some of the ridiculous, and ultimately, meaningless details these shit bags want to obsess over blows my mind. I won't bother with the details, but suffice to say that these types just don't 'get' what motorcycles and owning/riding one is supposed to be about. To these chuckle heads I sincerely say, Fuck You. They are why I won't be doing this job for more than another couple years at most. I'm ready to go back to working on my own stuff and my friends bikes, and everybody else can piss up a rope.


Also, the fuckin' wackos I get calling me on the phone or coming in here wanting to know about getting their Chinese mini bike, moped, scooter, go-cart or whatever fixed are seriously risking their personal health. I work on full size street bikes, and that's it. AND, I don't know or give a fuck about giving you the name or number of someone who does work on that crap. Get a real bike or die.



Alright, that was a good rant. I needed some pressure relief, or BOOM!! It'd be time for a killing spree, and we don't need that. Or do we?



Here's a picture I like. It's a shot Ed took of my bike with the moon rising behind it at Barber Motorsports Park last year during the Vintage Festival.