Another Prick in the Wall | Mental Poo

Monday, April 21, 2008

Another Prick in the Wall


Right into the f*cking wall.

But...just like my little erect wiggly tends to do...

...I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let me explain...

It's that time of year again, folks.


Ah, spring.

The birds appear.

Finally returning to roost from their wintry vacation...

...fresh and anew...

...waking me up WAY to f*cking early with ALL THAT GODDAMN CHIRPING!!





Where was I?

Oh yes...


When I'm able to finally take my goddamn Christmas lights down, which have been buried under a blanket of three feet of snow since the beginning of December.


That magical time of year when girls finally release their bosoms into the bright sunlight...

...causing my wife to say:

"Seriously? Why don't you take a f*cking picture. Do you need to stare like that with me standing right next to you, you f*cking asshole?"


It's quite magical.


It's also the time of year when I start thinking about breaking out my motorcycle.

Because, you know...almost dying by way of fruit and having an insect crawl into my skull just wasn't fun enough.


I've been thinking about buying a new motorcycle lately.

I can't really afford it, but the only thing I've really sprung on for myself were four months of penis enlargement pills, so I think I'm due for a big purchase.

On a related note, Mr. Wiggly's allergic reaction to these pills is finally clearing up, and the doctors say that the growth of a third testicle is only temporary.

Look out, ladies!!

But I digress...

I've had pretty good luck with my motorcycle purchases over the years...

...except for one time.

I was about 19 years old, I think, and had an old Honda.

At the time, crotch-rockets (a term related to fast Japanese bikes, and not the painful seepage coming from my penis thanks to those f*cking pills) were all the rage.

I, myself, was partial to the Katana.

The Katana.

A sleek, testosterone-magnifying, speed-limit-blurring, Harley-rider-hatred-inducing, chick f*cking magnet.


My buddy Eric had come by the house with his Harley, and I talked to him about going to buy a Katana.

We decided, hey....what better time than the present?


I was psyched. I'd committed to the idea.

Rice-burning big-haired glam-music-loving harlots, here I come!!

We hopped on our bikes that were parked in my driveway, and fired them up.

As I started to turn my motorcycle around, I excitedly screamed out:

"Let's go get me a Katana!!"

The adrenaline surged as I thought of my new rocket.



...the actual process of turning the bike at such a tight angle made my right wrist bend...

...revving the engine.



It's at this exact moment that my left hand conveniently slipped off the f*cking clutch.



Engine screaming, I immediately popped a wheelie...

...and drove straight into a stone retaining wall... 20 miles an hour.


The bike then continued driving up the retaining wall, with me still holding onto the handle bars, feet planted on the ground.

It was wall-crawling...almost like it was a Spidey-bike!

Had I been dressed in my superhero leotard, this probably would have looked really cool.

But I wasn't...I didn't dress like that until later that evening.


Somehow, the motorcycle drove UP THE WALL about two feet like I was performing some type of carnival trick...

...and landed on top of me.

So. Cool.

Laying on the laying next to me still running...

...I looked up at Eric:

"Maybe I shouldn't buy the Katana."

Good idea, you stupid, stupid f*cksh*t.

I lay back down on the ground...woozy...

...a bunch of little cartoon birdies circling my head.

Of course...they were chirping.




F*cking birds.


I won't be getting a Katana any time soon.

I'll be getting a Harley.

I'm just no longer making that declaration while sitting on a motorcycle...

..unless they make a Spidey Bike.

That would be COOL.


If you want to read about my OTHER motorcycle misadventures, click here.


AngryMan said...

I think that your screen name should be "Slick" instead of "Mooooog". You'd have to come up w/a new word for your moooooge, though.

Unknown said...

Men and their stupid motorcycles. My husband is prohibited from ever riding one again, especially since his last adventure ended much like yours but at about 70mph.

I told him whenever he gets the urge he can just hop on the roof of my suv and I will take him for a nice ride down the freeway.

Mike said...

That's why I drive a pick up truck.

Some dumb fuckshit pulled the same stunt, but the bike ended up in the back of my truck.

I backed over his head so he wouldn't remember my liscence place, and sold the bike for a couple thou. Paid off my credit card.

What I'm saying is, if you get your Katana I'm coming over.

Hungry Mother said...

Obviously you don't have enough tattoos to handle a motorcycle.

HeyJoe said...

And here I thought I would be cool if I bought a Honda Ruckus.

I Am Loser.

Malicious Intent said...

Definately not enough tats. And if you are to sissy to get a tat what makes you man enough to get a harley? And do they make them that small?

"You'll shoot your eye out kid!"

Anonymous said...

I know how riding a motorcycle turns you into a hot chick magnet - big breasted bikini-clad ladies just wouldn't leave me alone when I was astride my big throbbing Suzuki!

Unfortunately being a hetrosexual female, I didn't find this very helpful.

Blonde Goddess said...

The only reason women like guys on motorcycles is because of the bike itself. The vibrating engine can be quite titillating...although I have found that a riding lawnmower can be considered an adequate substitute.

billymac said...

man, i would totally buy a spidey bike... especially if it shot out spooge, er i mean web shit out of the front.

Tequila Mockingbird said...

Legos has a motorcycle, and i'll admit i LOVE the vibrating between my soft supple thighs.... nmmmmmm

Anonymous said...

yeap. It was your wrists fault. Fucking wrist.

FreeOscar said...

Start playing Def Leppard right before the birds start chirping see how they fucking like it?

Anonymous said...

Regarless of the make/model you decide to drop a wad (of cash) on, I suggest the purchase of the optional safety wheels. =D

Moooooog35 said...

Everyone is absolutely correct on the tattoo thing. I only have one...and absolutely NO desire to get another one. One large, butterfly tramp-stamp is enough.

Tequila: The vibration between my supple thighs is why I ride, too.

That, and the gas mileage. But more about my supple thighs.

AngryGinger said...

I can't wait to see my first boobs in real life instead of the internet.

I've been practicing motorboating.

Baba Doodlius said...

Hey, lay off the bird bashing or we'll all take a collective dump on your tiny, hatless head! Fer shizzle!

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