My little ride story, I'm not an editor so I am sure there are lots of dumb mistakes.
Ok, yeah, I live in fucking LA and all that Hollywood shit, but check it, I am still grinning ear to ear and my fucking ears are still bleeding. A friend last min. called last night and offered up an xtra ticket to the Motorhead show at HoB on Sunset in Hollywierd! Free? HELL YEAH!!
9:30pm, with a couple glasses of scotch in me, just to warm me up, I kick the big blue bitch over and head out from the shop in Venice. It's a beautiful clear night, a little brisk bust just perfect flannel weather. I roll down main, tuck over through Santa Monica down the California Incline, ( a really small fucking hill) up shift to 4th then turn on the throttle heading north on PCH ( Pacific Coast Hwy, for our east coast pals). It was one of the few times I've been on PCH and it was fairly clear. Clear sky, lots of stars out, not the fucking ass suckers in the movies, you know, the stars in the sky?
Anyhoo, it was like the thunder of marshal stacks were calling my name, I didn't catch one red light all they away to Sunset and PCH, just a solid humming all the way. At Sunset, 4 hot little chicks, ok 3 hot ones with one "fat friend" are honking their horn at me and hootn and hollern.. I yell out, " get out of that gage and get on!" They smile giggle, and one in the back seat flashes me. NICE, small little titties, but nice none the less.
Rolling up Sunset is tricky super tight turns with traffic and lots of lights, up hill most of the time, so on a suicide ride with no front break, you gotta pay attention, the scotch helped. I'm usually not an asshole when riding in residential areas, but this was Bell Air and Beverly Hills so FUCK YOU! I think about the tune from Zappa. " ... I'll take a ride to Beverly Hills, just before dawn and knock the little jockeys off the rich peoples lawns..."
I throttled it and road hard all they way to Sunset Plaza ( major Hollywood star fuckers hang out here and do "deals" and kiss each others ass.) So of course, keeping my eye out for LAPD, I putt on through never getting out of 3rd.
Rolling down the heart of Hollywood on Sunset I come up to the House of Blues, a line of leather clad kids stretch out in to the street, a line of cars tryn to valet park. Of course I lane split and roll on through to the valet area, don't see one bike, so I pull up right at the booth. Javier, the valet dude was trippn on my ride and said, "park it here man, I'll watch if for you" I slip him a 10 spot and make my way in to the mayhem.
Lemme is my fucking hero, the fucker has got to be pushn 65! Still doing what the fuck he wants, as hard as he wants, and as often as he wants. Motorhead is one of the only living bands still playing that are the real deal.. 12:30 head out, not a slole on PCH blew home doing 70 or so. My ears hurtn, body buzzn, and my cheeks sore from smiling so much. All in all, life doesn't get better when you can ride like that to see a dude like Lemme, and i didn't get hassled by the pigs.
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