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:..rEMEMBERING tHIS dAY..:


hANNAbONE

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My FOG key chain lives in my tank bag. Gleno rides along with me on every ride.

I guess that voice in my head that says "faster, faster" is his.

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11 years later and I still can't get that Mo'fracker outta my head. This PM ought to put a smile on the faces of those who knew him. This was just before heading to his place for Torrey and I just gave him my flight info. Cracks me up every time I read it.

 

Mr MadCap...

 

I'm on it like fat on a mother-in-law. I may not make the airport til 5:15, but, Ima grab your sweet self and shag it to Mayberry. Now...I know you've sampled my ribs at the Butts pad years ago, but, have you tasted my tri-tip??? I've got some ready to rock for dinn on Thurs. Further...we are all about the sweet hottness of my habanero/teriyaki pork loin chops Mon nite on our return from our ride. Again...flavours that will rock the palette.

 

Where is your gear?? Still not here. WTF Mang?? IF you waffle....Ima kick you in the taint soooo hard, there gonna think there was an unspoken shuttle launch in your 'hood.

 

Can't wait to see you bro. Months is one thing....years just ain't right.

 

 

PS: Can I just ride on the Feejer with you, that way we can spend even more time catching up in the helmets??

 

All the love babay....GMac

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Thanks Jake! The reason I rode out to the first UN was because I wanted to met the character who wrote all those interesting and sorta crazy posts. It was well worth the ride!

 

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Lone_RT_rider

I'll never forget Torrey 2004 when he lit the GSXR 1K up at the gas pumps near the days in. Full on burn out.....then, he slowly crept out on to the main road and rapped that bike straight to red-line in first gear as he was going INTO the area where the Chuckwagon is...... he had to have been doing all of 80 mph.

 

Miss that man and his loud handle every damned day....

 

See you on the other side my friend, with a fresh set of tires and a full tank of gas......

 

Mofrack.... f'shizzle....

 

 

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I'd ride over to Boulder City from SoCal once every couple of months for whatever reason/excuse I could conjure up. Didn't need much.

 

One Saturday, I pulled in about lunch time, parked the bike, and put the key in my jacket pocket. He saw me do that and stormed toward me yelling, "This ain't Californee. You are the key-takinest Mo'Fracker I have ever seen." And with that he reached into my jacket pocket, took out the key, put it in my RT, and said, "If you touch that, and I mean ALL phuqn weekend, I'ma kick your ass back to Vegas and put you on a bus."

 

I knew then that he loved me.

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My FOG key chain lives in my tank bag. Gleno rides along with me on every ride.

I guess that voice in my head that says "faster, faster" is his.

Mine still rides every ride with me as well, in my 'stitch pocket. That and I flash his shocker hand sign to other bikes as my hello wave as they pass by.

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