| Author | Message | ||
     Iman501 |
MERRY CHRISTMAS to all you bikers. > > > 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS > > > > > > 'Twas the night before Christmas, And not until Spring > > > > Would a motor be running, not even a Wing. > > > > > > > > The bikes are all sleeping, they're covered and warm, Batteries > > > > are tended, nylon covers their form. > > > > > > > > My Bros were all nestled down snug in their beds, > > > > While visions of new chrome danced in their heads. > > > > > > > > And I in my do-rag, bike jacket and boots > > > > Out shoveling snow, and dreaming of scoots. > > > > > > > > Then from the horizon there came such a clatter > > > > My shovel I dropped, what could be the matter? > > > > Away up the hill, I slogged through the snow > > > > Looked up at the sky; where'd all that noise go? > > > > > > > > Then a throb from the heavens, like straight pipes so hearty > > > > Gave Summers' good thoughts, a loud bikers' party. > > > > > > > > When, what to my wondering eyes should appear > > > > But a Hog Ultra Classic, Red trailer in rear! > > > > > > > > With a little old rider, so lively and quick, > > > > I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. > > > > More rapid than a V-Rod his Ultra came on, > > > > And he whistled, and shouted, and sang out this song; > > > > > > > > "Now, Springer! Now, Dyna! On Ultra and Softail! > > > > Now Vulcan! Now Injun! On Vict'ry and Triumph! > > > > > > > > To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! > > > > Now RIDE away! RIDE away! RIDE away all!" > > > > > > > > As small bikes that from the semis do fly, > > > > When they meet with the air blast, mount to the sky, > > > > So up to the house-top that Ultra it flew > > > > With a trailer of goodies, and ole' St. Nick too > > > > > > > > And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof > > > > The rumble and thunder of pipes that gave proof. > > > > I ran in the house, boots thumping around, > > > > And in came St. Nick all bearded and round > > > > > > > > Dressed all in black leather, from do-rag to boot > > > > His chaps were all tarnished with road grime and soot; > > > > A T-bag of goodies he'd flung on his back > > > > And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack > > > > > > > > His shades -- how they twinkled! his do-rag how scary! > > > > With chains intertwined, through skulls that were cherry! > > > > His droll little mouth had done many a row, > > > > So the beard of his chin was as white as the snow. > > > > > > > > The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, > > > > The smoke had a strange smell; it gave him relief. > > > > > > > > He had a broad face and a large fat beer belly > > > > That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly > > > > > > > > He was tattooed and plump, a right jolly old rider, > > > > So I offered a cold brew, thought what could be righter? > > > > A wink of his eye as he downed that cold beer, > > > > Gave me to know I had nothing to fear > > > > > > > > He spoke not a word, but went straight to my ride > > > > And fixed it with Chrome, Horsepower and Pride > > > > And giving the peace sign with bikers' good cheer > > > > Strode off to his Ultra rumbling near > > > > > > > > He sprang on the saddle, his gloves on the bars > > > > A wheelie he threw; then off towards the stars > > > > I heard him exclaim, as my chest swelled with pride > > > > > > > > "HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD > > > > RIDE | ||
| Iman501 |
its not buell, but it entertained me | ||
| Andymnelson |
Aw man, now you ruined Christmas for me...this is worse than when i found out Santa wasn't real! NOW you're telling me he and his reindeer are fags??? | ||
| Crusty |
Some people would bitch if they were being hung with a new rope. | ||
| Iman501 |
Aw man, now you ruined Christmas for me...this is worse than when i found out Santa wasn't real! NOW you're telling me he and his reindeer are fags??? hahahahahahhahaha wow that made me laugh really hard!!! | ||
| Sayitaintso |
Hell no I dont want a new rope. It might stretch and not break my neck then leave me there gasping for air or rope burns like Eastwood in Hang 'em High. That cant be a true story anyway....there would be oil spots on roof tops all over the world. | ||
| Cityxslicker |
Noose and Rope, the gift that keeps giving | ||
| Sifo |
All I want for Christmas is Buell back! |
