some kukushits

i cried like fuck, when they wheeled siriusdogstar out at the bike mechanic's. his brand new handlebar and headlights are smart as hell, and only the petrol stains and angrily mauled front fender give away the accident. hadie revved him up around the block and the two-stroke purr put a spastic grin on my face for the rest of the day. that machine is a tough shit. took down three metal railings and engine's still working like a dream. damage for the new frontals: $550.

i cried like fuck, when i climbed on sirius for the last time this evening. saying goodbye to your favorite inanimate object is not fun, not least when other people think you're abit kukushit. i sold him to a nice boy, a virgin dirtbiker. hadie will help me do the transfer tommorrow because surely if i handle that myself the whole of LTA will think im kukushit when i break down in the carpark watching someone else ride off on my baby.

i know its hard to understand why a hunk of metal tied itself to my heart so. i dont care if mom or daddy or you dont understand. i miss the burnished perfume of 2T after a long ride, i miss the reassuring wide swell of wr fairings as we swallow kilometers together, i miss the steady grumble of the engine as we bully our way through sandy and long-grassed trails. most, i miss the nights when sirius brings me home safe and i pat his saddle and say 'thanks, old man'.

awhile ago when sirius developed some cranky carb problems i said - eh if you give me more problems im going to sell you off arh! no more problems after that. now i HAVE sold him, only because the doctor says my arm probably wont have the strength to wrestle a heavy bike after i recover. i've bought a new ktm, a pretty little racer that's crazy on torque and half the weight of sirius. but its killing me that it wont be my big old white wr monster thats waiting for me when im ready to ride again.