Trophy Girls

One thing you can never find now days, even on eHarmony, is a trophy girl. Last night, I rolled out to the dirt track races, in which when I left, I was a dust ball. There was so much dust, I seen girls taking off their bra to give them a shake out. And for us that stare, there were some dirty boobies out there. But, what I didn't see, was, some hot chick giving out trophies.
Not that I am a Jeff Gordan, and the only woman I can catch, is a materialistic chick in a drivers suit handing me a piece of hardware. But, where the heck are the ones like they have on motocross? Those hotties that leave ya drooling like a dog, wishing you were a driver, and damn sure wanting a kiss from all that woman there posing all nice and pretty.
One thing I have learned in my life, is that no matter how hot she is, and she knows it, that chick has a side to her that really let's you know why she is single. From only taking the best of the best, and wanting, waiting, bitching, nagging, making you sleep on the couch, and all that good relationship crap. They are a pain in the ass, ya it looks good taking something out that everyone wants. But this dude will buy a sweet ass Harley and watch people want. A Harley don't bitch, tell you when you can and can't do something, and just like being freshly married, it has the new car smell. When the new car smell wears off, you don't need an attorney, court date, or child support payment to trade it in. That's exactly why a bike is better than a trophy girl.
But, in the mean time, while I pay child support, my bike consist of pedals, handle bars with streamers, and reflectors under my ass so people in the big cars don't hit me. I love to just stroll down the road, making everyone think, That's what happens when you get a DUI. Nothing says I love you more than riding my bike in my BIKE shorts, the old high risers, tight, zipper fly, and a wife beater with some grease on it, and having my hat on backwards with flip flops. I ain't out to style or be in a magazine, I'm just trying to show the point, if you want a Harley, don't be silly wrap ole willy before you hit that trophy girl.

Sometimes

Sometimes in my world, where everyone knows me, I think of the damnest things. So, I moved into my dodgeball court apartment. It is HUGE, either one of 2 things needs to happen, I buy more shit, or heck I buy more shit. I got about everything I need, but wooden spoons, but I break them on her butt anyways. I have a couch, which is called the loveseat, because its fun to do the whoopy on, and I have a loveseat, which is equiped with stir ups. Okay, now that you are on the edge of your seat.
I do the damnest things. Like mail something, with no stamp, give myself a papercut licking a pre sealed envelope. But, that's how I roll and I like it. I am wishing I had some more Mexican friends, cause I really need some more shit up in here and cheap too. Nothing beats getting a new tv for case of beer. But I have to say they are wising up. Now the big deal is selling paper products. Who freaking new people can STEAL big ass things of ass wipe and make mean cash. I can see infamil and stuff, because that stuff costs you more than delivery of the child. Which leads me to another off subject.
You pay to make them, you pay to have them, you pay to raise them, and then you keep paying child support. Now comeon, the older the kid gets the less we should pay, he isn't in diapers or formula anymore. Crap, lets make it where we stop paying our ex's when the kid gets his first job. Teach them responsibility, make him fork the bill to his mom for stuff. Or better yet, I guess that would be the first time he ever got money that was actually for him. And that counts for the Harley I didn't get to ride, the car I didn't get to drive, the house I don't live in, all in which my child support, supports.
Okay, now, sometimes, my damn ADD just beats my ass everytime. So don't let him take you on a one track mind, don't be silly wrap ole willy.