My poor motorcycle

It ran well when it ran. Now it is gone. It blew up on a beautiful Friday afternoon and its remains (read: shards and chunks of metal I found floating in the engine oil) are in an "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" margarine container sitting in my driveway; I haven't bothered to clean it up. It has been quite a project selling my bike in pieces and sending it to people all over the country who have a better use for whatever they buy from me. Infact it has taken up the bulk of my time: completely disassembling it, boxing and shipping it. I have made a decent amount of money though and indirectly made a large investment into a short-term money market account (go figure). I've also gotten very dirty doing it. I hate road grime.

If you were to walk down my alley and take note of the driveway, you might think a redneck lives in my house. For a time, most of the bike was strewn about the driveway and lawn. Remind yourself of the scene where Peter goes on welfare and tells his kids to put car parts on the lawn. Large oil stains are everywhere and my mom has given me an ultimatem. It has to be cleared out by the end of this weekend. Of the 300 pounds the bike weighs, I'd say atleast 285 remains. A small amount gets put in the trash every week to be taken away (for free) but I am afraid I finally have to take it somewhere to be dumped (not free).

Holy crap I just accidentally deleted my old post (this one) and thought it was gone forever. I saw a button "recover post" and hit it now it is magically back. And so am I.

Now I am in the position where I want a new bike quite a bit, currently have the money, but am lacking time. There is hardly a riding season left and then I will not be here for an unknown amount of time. This leaves me with my Cannondale and Volvo. Used in conjuntion with one another I use about the same amount of gas as with the Ninja. Don't really know how to end this. I'm tired and going to bed is a good one.