Posted by shadow on 12/16/2006, 10:14 am The Bikes are all sleeping My Bros were all nestled And I in my doo-rag, Then from the horizon Away up the hill, A throb from the heavens When, what to my wondering With a little old rider, More rapid than Crotchies Now, Harley! To the top of the porch! As small bikes So up to the house-top And then, in a twinkling, I ran to the house Dressed all in black leather, A T-Bag of goodies His shades.. how they twinkled! His droll little mouth The Stump of a pipe He had a broad face He was tattooed and plump, In a twinkle of his eye He spoke not a word, And giving the peace sign He sprang on the saddle, I heard him exclaim, "HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL,
129.71.148.254
By stump on Friday, December 15, 2006 - 04:32 pm:
Twas the night before Christmas,
And not until spring ,
Would an engine be running,
not even a wing
They're covered and warm
Batteries are tended,
nylon covers their form.
snug in their beds,
White visions of new chrome
danced in their heads.
bike jacket and boots.
Out shoveling snow,
and dreaming of scoots.
there came such a clatter,
My shovel I dropped,
what could be the matter?
I slogged through the snow,
Looked up at the sky:
where'd all that noise go?
like straight pipes so hearty,
Gave summer's good thoughts,
like a loud Bikers party.
eyes should appear,
But a neat '02 Retro,
Red trailer in rear.
so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment
it must be St. Nick.
his Retro came on.
And he whistled, and shouted
and sang out this song:
Now, Big Dog!
On Honda and Beamer!
Now Vulcan!
Now injun!
On Victory and Trumpet!
To the top of the wall!
Now Ride away!
Ride away! Ride away all!
that from the semis do fly,
When they meet with the air blast,
mount to the sky.
that OLX it flew
With a trailer of goodies,
and ole St. Nick too.
I heard on the roof ,
The rumble and thunder of pipes
that gave proof.
boots thumping around,
And in came St. Nick
all bearded and round.
from Helmet to boot,
is chaps were all tarnished
with road grime and soot.
he'd flung on his back.
And he looked like a peddler
just opening his pack.
His doo-rag how scary!
With chains intertwined,
through skulls that were cherry!
had done many a row,
So the beard of his chin
was as white as the snow.
he held tight in his teeth,
The Smoke had a strange smell:
it gave him a relief!
and a large fat beer belly,
That shook, when he laughed
like a bowlful of jelly.
a right jolly old rider,
So I offered a cold Bud,
thought what could be righter?
as he downed that cold beer,
Gave me to know
I had nothing to fear.
but went straight to my ride,
And fixed it with chrome,
Horsepower and Pride!
with Biker's good cheer,
Took off for his Retro
which was rumbling quite near.
his gloves on the bars,
A wheely he threw
then off towards the stars!
as my chest swelled with pride..
AND TO ALL A GOOD RIDE!"
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