In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

That’s Going to Hurt Later

It’s hot today. Officially, it’s probably around 90 degrees. Unofficially, which is the real world,  it’s 95 with high humidity.
I was driving along, not paying much attention, with Little Feat turned up and listening to “Feet Don’t Fail Me Now”, when a group of motorcycles caught my attention of the rear view mirror. I reached a traffic light first, so I had some time to examine the group, particularly one rider, as they stopped next to me at the light.
None were dressed to ride on the highway, since most were in tank tops, t-shirts and not wearing gloves. I know this sounds a little excessive, but road rash, large bugs and the sun can play havoc on an exposed rider. I credit them for wearing helmets, but your head isn’t the only thing that can be damaged.
Anyway, back to the particular rider: I’d say she was around thirty in age, a few pounds overweight and had eight pounds of boobs - with four pounds exposed to the brutal sun. From my memory of cooking charts, she was somewhere between rare, and medium rare. Considering their path, she would cook for a few more hours. That’s what inspired my title.
Later this evening, I doubt she’ll be without volunteers to place salve, although their efforts will probably be in vain. That woman is going to suffer and there’s little she can do, except never make the mistake again.


  1. Heh. Bare skin anywhere and motorcycles just don't mix well.

  2. I think most riders are ignorant. The lure of the open rode, wind on their face and the freedom of riding leaves a false sense of security. Things, like rocks and insects, can hit the rider like a bullet. Leaving the bike and hitting the pavement is like being grated, especially with the new pavement, which has deep grooves for traction.

    Riding is dangerous and the best riders wear protective clothing, besides a helmet. Luck keeps most riders safe, but when it runs out, the consequences are terrible.

  3. Yea, verily. That heat lands on anything exposed, and more of it rises from the pavement. There is no escape short of SPF 1000.

  4. I used to ride a bike, back in the day. Always suited up in helmet, jacket, long pants, etc. Hitting bugs at 60 mph hurts. I once took a moth right in the middle of my faceplate -- if I'd been helmetless it would have ruined my whole day. Raindrops at 60 mph hurt, too. I was once passed by a guy wearing only shorts, flip-flops and a helmet. I remember thinking that if anything bad happened -- even if it was totally not his fault -- he'd better be able to balance on the top of his head as he was scooting along the asphalt. Ouch.

  5. I buried a brother that was doing everything right, but couldn't drive the car for the elderly woman that pulled into his path.

    At best, it's dangerous as hell, so tempting fate only adds to the risk.