You Talking to *me*?

Fever blister is starting to heal, yay.
In the meantime however, it looks like I have the PLAGUE. Between it, the pirate-themed cami I am wearing and the fucked up weirdness that is my hair, I look like I belong in a biker bar somewhere. Someplace with a name like The Dew Drop Inn or The Pink Poodle. Names that *invite* you in to start some shit. Just so you can have your ass handed to you by a bunch of tattooed guys who collectively weigh more than Shamu.

MORON in off the street = MioS
BIKERS = BIKERS (*shrug*)

MioS : What a stupid name! What are ya? A bunch of sissies?
BIKERS: shocked silence…
BAR: sound of crickets…somewhere in the distance – a dog barks.
MioS : (realizing his mistake) Ohhhhhhfuuuuuu…
BIKERS: (leaping, en masse) *GROWL*
BAR : Johnny Cash comes back onto the jukebox, drowning out sounds of insurance premiums being shot skyward

At any rate and in keeping with the theme, I decided that I needed a biker name. Luckily for me, there’s an Outlaw Biker Name Generator. I am QUITE certain that it was designed by a *real* Hell’s Angel. Because as you know, most outlaw bikers are proficient with Java and web page design.
According to it my “one-percenter” name is “BITCH” and I ride with “Whiskey Priests MC”. You may now all bow down and grovel at Bitch’s feet. Don’t fuck up the boots while you’re down there.



3 thoughts on “You Talking to *me*?

    1. Bad, mad and dangerous troubles. It truly is a biker bar.

      I remembered reading the name (I’ve got the most appalling memory for useless rubbish – occasionally it serves me but for the most part, it simply clutters up my gray matter).

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