Sunday. Bloody, Sunday
So, It's Saturday. The one after the day killers gave me a deposit on the "Susuki". The official 7 day deadline of holding onto a bike that I just want GONE from my life. Again It's not worth anything and frankly the only reason I'm charging money for it, is because a lifetime of lessons showed me that anything attempted to be given for 'free' is perceived as worth less than that, and therefore impossible to rid yourself of. Oh! nice Ferrari! Free? No thanks.. ?? Listen to me, I'm always right. Oh crap. I got this thing a decade ago. 'For free' Do I blame the bike? Drugs? Vanilla Ice? I know I could keep the stinky $100 bills the Methhead handed me and just re-sell the thing to someone else, and I'm SURE there's another story there too, but what could possibly go wrong? This binary wheeled pinnacle of 80's style and technology has been sitting in the bed of my El Camino, Josephine Dirté, for a week now as my personal give-a-shi