I have decided to name my bike. I wanted a name that really screams out, and when you say it, without ever seeing the bike, you can invision it off the name alone. I thought of a lot of different names... The Four Sisters, the Backfire Bandit, It, Black Lightning... I was almost about to settle with Rusty Rocket, and paint it with rust colors like orange and brown, do a really nice bike up with rusty colors... that would be sweet.....
Then proving once again that my 3 year old spawn's intellect is far superior to mine, he thought of it... At first he wanted to name it Spiderman... kids freaking love Spiderman... but it came to me when little Kronk Jr. came out to my garage and asked me in the sweetest most innocent voice, "Daddy, whats a f&*k?" As I looked up at an inquisitive child standing infront of a fuming (not to mention pregnant) mother standing in the doorway of my not so sound insulated garage entrance, I realised a common theme to the bike... f&*k... a word used over and over at the bike, usually followed by a wrench, bolt, screwdriver, or whatever else was in reach, once, including a saw balde which I left stuck in the drywall just below my window (it makes a nice beer platform) to go flying across the garage into the piece of plywood leaning on the wall beside the main door to avoid further drywall damage for just this sort of an instance. My son just happened to be standing inside by the door as a 10mm Mastercraft combination wrench coasted through the air following the screaming of "the F-word." Once again after many warnings from she whom must be obeyed, Daddy dropped the F-bomb...F-bomb?.... Effin F-bomb... something to call the XJ11. So, drumroll please... (pictures coming soon.) I am pleased to introduce you to my motorcycle, the F-Bomb
Then proving once again that my 3 year old spawn's intellect is far superior to mine, he thought of it... At first he wanted to name it Spiderman... kids freaking love Spiderman... but it came to me when little Kronk Jr. came out to my garage and asked me in the sweetest most innocent voice, "Daddy, whats a f&*k?" As I looked up at an inquisitive child standing infront of a fuming (not to mention pregnant) mother standing in the doorway of my not so sound insulated garage entrance, I realised a common theme to the bike... f&*k... a word used over and over at the bike, usually followed by a wrench, bolt, screwdriver, or whatever else was in reach, once, including a saw balde which I left stuck in the drywall just below my window (it makes a nice beer platform) to go flying across the garage into the piece of plywood leaning on the wall beside the main door to avoid further drywall damage for just this sort of an instance. My son just happened to be standing inside by the door as a 10mm Mastercraft combination wrench coasted through the air following the screaming of "the F-word." Once again after many warnings from she whom must be obeyed, Daddy dropped the F-bomb...F-bomb?.... Effin F-bomb... something to call the XJ11. So, drumroll please... (pictures coming soon.) I am pleased to introduce you to my motorcycle, the F-Bomb
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