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Bit Of Bush...ROBBO: HIGH ON THE "HOG".

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  • Bernard d
    ROBBO: HIGH ON THE HOG . I went out shopping, for some little moped thing, one, which you can ride, if you can drive the car. Oh, what a change, a few swift
    Message 1 of 3 , Jul 1, 2012
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      ROBBO: HIGH ON THE "HOG".


      I went out shopping, for some little moped thing,
      one, which you can ride, if you can drive the car.
      Oh, what a change, a few swift words, can bring...
      and you know, how persuasive, sales people are!

      Seems what I needed was some real macho gear,
      not, some poor little ol' Granny's, moped excuse.
      Something, to transform me, into a dude to fear,
      a hard riding, anti-social, kick their butt recluse.

      I reckon I could retire, on a half of what I spent,
      but Oh, what a difference the easy finance made.
      I'll be debt free in two decades, owe not one cent,
      I paid no deposit and I had not a thing, to trade.

      Don't know why I bought it, memory sort of fogs,
      I know naught, about the kilowatt thing-a-me-jig.
      Somebody said I needed, the hog, to end all hogs,
      I wanted two wheeled transport not a bleedin' pig!

      They say it's 'super bike', right from stem to stern
      over-bored, over-stroked...turbo charged, as well,
      There's a lot I don't know, more, I'm yet to learn,
      it has, eleventy-seven gears...as near, as I can tell.

      Bought all the good gear, you wear when a-wheel,
      'show no blood leather', and 'kick a guts in' boots.
      Got inked out like a catalogue, tattooed, to reveal,
      I am a 'Mongrel' and with the mob I'm in cahoots.

      Eleventy-seven gears...did I mention, those before?
      I could say that I fell, when using every single one.
      Then green leafy substance courage would restore,
      not everyone's a natural, when all is said and done.

      Most are sympathetic, at a club house where I live,
      but sympathy, is a problem to blokes who are wed.
      I had me a wife, one who won't forget, nor forgive...
      Sympathy, made the other bird take me to her bed.

      Reckon I looked pathetic, after falling off the bike,
      she took pity on me...then consoled me, in her bed.
      After that, instability did more often seem to strike,
      then, I called my wife, by the other's name instead...

      The more moral may say I got myself into a pickle,
      but at that moment Domesticity, became Litigation.
      A fall from grace, is worse, than any from a sickle,
      a price we pay, for sympathy and illicit fornication...

      Doesn't leave me much...just that macho image bit,
      alimony here, compensation there...it's a hefty slog.
      Bundled up my duffel bag, I'll do 'the midnight flit',
      I'll be one more Mongrel, riding high upon the hog...

      (C). Copyright: Bernard de Silva...1/7/2012...
    • Wings081
      Hi Bernie, Biking, those halcyon days of youth.I rode one to and from my place of work while waiting for the Air Ministry to decide to call for my services to
      Message 2 of 3 , Jul 2, 2012
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        Hi Bernie,
        Biking, those halcyon days of youth.I rode one to and from my place of work while waiting for the Air Ministry to decide to call for my services to bring the war to an abrupt end.
        Nothing flash like an Indian or Norton Commander, just a 350ccDouglas Aero de Luxe horizontally opposed twin whose rear cylinder would continually overheat,requiring new valves and head gaskets.
        I used to give a lift to a female fellow worker,fair of face and with ample bodily proportions the envy of other girls.
        Only time I ever got closer to her than having her arms around my waist to prevent her falling off the pillion seat,was slamming the brakes on at the last minute when approaching a red traffic light.
        Margaret,for that was her name,complained one morning that the bag I had on my back was rather bulky.I believe she would have done a runner if she knew why the bag was so lumpy.It contained a German
        incendiary bomb I'd picked up after a night raid near home,which had failed to explode and which I was taking to show my workmates.
        Sadly she was engaged to be married and eventually left our works and had a baby boy which she named after me, causing much tittle tattle among the other girls at work.
        I did once try out a big Harley belonging to a Canadian friend.
        It was so heavy it had a lever which operated two jockey wheels to support it whilst staionary and the gears (or was it the clutch)were operated by a foot pedal plus a saddle as big as one for a brewer's cart horse.
        That's about my lot with bikes although my young son once went Stateside and purchased a container full of British bikes which he shipped home and converted to their original factory state.
        Replaced the 'ape hangers' and stripped down and cleaned out the sludge tube plus anything else making them Brit legal.
        You would have been in your element Bernie with around fifty bikes to choose from.
        Keep the revs up
        As always
        Wings.


        --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, "Bernard d" <rede2rollbaby@...> wrote:
        >
        > ROBBO: HIGH ON THE "HOG".
        >
        >
        > I went out shopping, for some little moped thing,
        > one, which you can ride, if you can drive the car.
        > Oh, what a change, a few swift words, can bring...
        > and you know, how persuasive, sales people are!
        >
        > Seems what I needed was some real macho gear,
        > not, some poor little ol' Granny's, moped excuse.
        > Something, to transform me, into a dude to fear,
        > a hard riding, anti-social, kick their butt recluse.
        >
        > I reckon I could retire, on a half of what I spent,
        > but Oh, what a difference the easy finance made.
        > I'll be debt free in two decades, owe not one cent,
        > I paid no deposit and I had not a thing, to trade.
        >
        > Don't know why I bought it, memory sort of fogs,
        > I know naught, about the kilowatt thing-a-me-jig.
        > Somebody said I needed, the hog, to end all hogs,
        > I wanted two wheeled transport not a bleedin' pig!
        >
        > They say it's 'super bike', right from stem to stern
        > over-bored, over-stroked...turbo charged, as well,
        > There's a lot I don't know, more, I'm yet to learn,
        > it has, eleventy-seven gears...as near, as I can tell.
        >
        > Bought all the good gear, you wear when a-wheel,
        > 'show no blood leather', and 'kick a guts in' boots.
        > Got inked out like a catalogue, tattooed, to reveal,
        > I am a 'Mongrel' and with the mob I'm in cahoots.
        >
        > Eleventy-seven gears...did I mention, those before?
        > I could say that I fell, when using every single one.
        > Then green leafy substance courage would restore,
        > not everyone's a natural, when all is said and done.
        >
        > Most are sympathetic, at a club house where I live,
        > but sympathy, is a problem to blokes who are wed.
        > I had me a wife, one who won't forget, nor forgive...
        > Sympathy, made the other bird take me to her bed.
        >
        > Reckon I looked pathetic, after falling off the bike,
        > she took pity on me...then consoled me, in her bed.
        > After that, instability did more often seem to strike,
        > then, I called my wife, by the other's name instead...
        >
        > The more moral may say I got myself into a pickle,
        > but at that moment Domesticity, became Litigation.
        > A fall from grace, is worse, than any from a sickle,
        > a price we pay, for sympathy and illicit fornication...
        >
        > Doesn't leave me much...just that macho image bit,
        > alimony here, compensation there...it's a hefty slog.
        > Bundled up my duffel bag, I'll do 'the midnight flit',
        > I'll be one more Mongrel, riding high upon the hog...
        >
        > (C). Copyright: Bernard de Silva...1/7/2012...
        >
      • Bernard d
        G day Wings, I ve never been a Harley fan, and still find no real reason for their appeal...I have owned the beasts but could never quite become addicted... I
        Message 3 of 3 , Jul 2, 2012
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          G'day Wings,
          I've never been a Harley fan,
          and still find no real reason for their
          appeal...I have owned the beasts but could
          never quite become addicted...

          I did knock together a pseudo "Goldie"
          once...14+ to 1 compression, with a kick like a mule
          via a long 350 con rod and a 500 Goldie short shaft
          piston and some other dubious modifications...Not
          something a novice might ride but it opened a few eyes
          and certainly dented some egos...
          Cheers old Mate, I'm looking at GT walking
          frame modifications or rally capable mobility cart
          possibilities for the future...
          Bernie...

          Just an old B33, Mate...
          Something I used to own, that surprised a few...
          It was registered and I used to ride it on the road...
          it would `run', on super grade pump...with a bit of
          judicious operation, but, all fuel was cheap back
          then...A muffler insert...of a sort, used to reside
          in the saddle bags if required for `quiet' operation...

          "HOME IMPROVEMENTS"

          Pretty slack on performance…or so it seemed to me,
          but she was just an old workhorse, that Beeza B33.
          A Goldie pot, GP cams might make the old girl roll,
          with Benzol / Shell `A' mix, via an Amal TT's bowl.

          Tractor valves from David Brown, all well modified,
          those heavier double valve springs, I.H.C. supplied.
          The engine sprocket shed one tooth...a gearing lark,
          decompression, I removed and BTH, gave the spark.

          Exhaust pipe cut to suit, a megaphone, reverse cone,
          a gas exit draw, equipped with roar, at 'cam on' zone.
          Bit of slide cut on the carb, jetted up as you'd expect,
          run her in none to gentle...bit of Castor oil, for effect…

          Sort of a poor man's 'Goldie'…way back, in years past,
          not over blessed with longevity...but, she did move fast.
          She left many the fancy charger, behind, from the post,
          best thing was, I built her myself...I liked that the most...

          ©. Copyright: Bernard de Silva...
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