Motorcycles and Beer

As we all know, they mix.

They create a viscoliquescent solution of unadulterated cool heretofor unseen by the likes of many, many motorists. Knowing this, I contacted my man what supplies me with knowledge of wordly sorts, for he, among other things, was a motorcycle owner. Being that, and knowing quite well the afformentioned info, it should be no surprise to any of you that he as well has a propensity for from time to time, it's not like he has a problem or anything but a propensity for being drunk.

This gives him, as it does many, good ideas. Ideas like, Henry, ride my motorcycle.
I am no one to refuse a kind offer like this because after all, we're all brothers.

So I hopped on.
And I rode (free as the wind!) to the end of the block, around a Volkswagen, and upon the turn back to my apartment, Man of Worldly Knowledge took wait.

But I did not stop.

I continued, all of three blocks, at which point, I almost got ground under a chicken bus crossing an intersection without so much as the right of way.

Oh cursed I was from the windows of that '72 Blue Bird Body Company (powered by Ford Motors) school bus!

Therefore, upon my return you can understand how easy it must have been for me to have run over that cat.

My head hung in shame, nary a word upon my lips to express this feeling!

Basically, I wasn't paying that much attention.
Either way, with the blood of this cat on my hands and bike chain, I returned, to the awaiting man.

The story was not recounted.

Even though, in my mind, I felt it to be pretty fucking good.