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scorpiobabe2007's blog: "Babe's Blogs"

created on 06/29/2008  |  http://fubar.com/babe-s-blogs/b227401
*Louann's Disclaimer*: I am not responsible for any choking on ur drink, any drink or food that may come out of ur nose during this read. And I am certainly not responsible for any damage 2 ur computer due to the above actions that may occur while u r reading this ..... ROTFLMFAO!!!!!!!!!!!! Neighborhood Hazard (or: Why the Cops Won't Patrol Brice Street) I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too. Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up. Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle…at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine. I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there! Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness…all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding. Little did I suspect… As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it—it was that close. I hate to run over animals…and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage! Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street…and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing. I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in…well…I just plain screamed. Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street…on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle…my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser. About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse. Finally I got the upper hand…I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked…sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak. Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car. I heard screams. They weren't mine... I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street. I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser. So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger… That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car… I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves
On the farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of whom loved to play together. One day the two were playing, when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink. Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken to go get the farmer for help! Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor. Running around, the chicken spied the farmer's new Harley. Finding the keys in the ignition, the chicken sped off with a length of rope hoping he still had time to save his friend's life. Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive on the shiny Harley, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him. After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer's bike, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful bike, rescued the horse! Happy and proud, the chicken rode the Harley back to the farmhouse, and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned. The friendship between the two animals was cemented: Best Buddies, Best Pals. A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mud pit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life! The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle. Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his hangy-down thing and he would then lift him out of the pit. The chicken got a good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life. The moral of the story? (yep, you betcha, there IS a moral!) "When You're Hung Like A Horse, You Don't Need A Harley To Pick Up Chicks.....LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some of my friends have ask me b4 why I love bad boys/guys?? Becuz they are sensitive creatures. They are very protective of the woman they love, they will go against their family, or friends if they turn against or talk badly about the woman they love. They are quick to come to ur rescue. They are rebellious of authority figures which makes them even more interesting to women. They usually have bodies like a Greek god, tattoos on every part or various parts of their bodies. Usually they are spontaneous about things u do together. The couple of bad boys/guys that I've dated.....one in particular bought me flowers, borrowed a sports car from his boss & took me out for the nite. They love to have fun, so they are always creating fun things to do. Although I wasn't real big into wearing crop tops & mini skirts with high heels .... I could have at anytime, & no one would have messed with me as long as my bull dog was with me. Bad boys/guys are passionate, on the spot type of guys. Most women want them becuz they think they can change them.....or they want to be involved with them becuz they are so much fun. Dating a Bad Boy/Guy is the most exciting relationship u can ever have in ur life. If U get one to really fall In Love with U, they will b there pretty much for the rest of ur life. They are hard to get through to at times, but once u get their trust & Love, Ur pretty much their world to them. Bad Boys/Guys are confident, they aren't readily available, they aren't hurt if u turn them down.....they know they can get someone else quickly. They value & respect themselves - along with valuing & respecting U. Good Boys/Guys are easier to love u, & they are completely loyal to u from the beginning. They will be honest with u at all times, but they will never completely give up their friends or their family for u like a bad boy will. Anything U do to a Good Boy/Guy is always ur fault to their family or their friends. U can never completely become a good boys/guys world. They may treat U like a princess in ur face & in front of ur friends & family....but behind ur back - ur gonna always be the pushy, bossy bitch!! Anything Wrong with or Bad in the Good Boys/Guys life is always becuz of U - that woman. They don't really value themselves. They are boring, they are readily available to u 24 hours a day & U can trample all over them & they just keep coming back for more. They have no respect for themselves, which is why they so easily talk about U behind ur back. They have no confidence in themselves.....and they are very needy & clingy. And if U ever notice....most of them seem to suffer from negative views of their life, & the world around them. They seem depressed most of the time. Think about it which would U rather be to a guy?? Then think about which type of guy U would rather have in ur life.......... Just some food for thought......... Are you a nice Person who has always wondered why the cocky/confident person -- the one who barely appears interested in someone -- is usually the one who gets that person? Have you suffered from hearing the words, "You're a really nice person, but I only like you as a friend," from someone who you would do (or may, in fact, have already done) just about anything and everything for -- only to turn around and watch them date (or even chase) someone who treats them like they are nothing special? And are you stumped wondering why they would date someone who treats them like that when they could have you who would treat them like a prince/princess and give them everything they want? Well, you better brace yourself because I'm going to tell you a couple of secrets that you might not want to hear. First, "nice" equates with boring and predictable. Look up "nice" in the dictionary and you find: pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory. In other words, average -- not exceptional, not exciting, and not sexy. I'll bet you've never heard someone say they didn't want to date someone because they were too confident, too passionate, or too exciting -- have you? But, I'll bet you have heard someone say things like, "They’re such a nice person. They’re so sweet and they’re always there for me, but I only like them as a friend." Or, "They’re such a good person -- kind, thoughtful, generous, honest, loyal -- but there's no chemistry. They just don't turn me on." Sadly, We’ve all heard it at some time. The fact is, Mr. Nice Person, you cannot bore someone into feeling attracted to you or into wanting to date you. And as obvious as that sounds, if you are one of those people I described that is exactly what you are trying to do. And it won't work. Please understand that I am not suggesting that you mistreat or disrespect them in any way. What I suggesting is that you value and respect you more. To illustrate what I mean: The answer to the question, "Why does the person who doesn't appear to care as much about that person get that person?" is simple: The nice person cares too much, too soon. They have made the person too important and too valuable and it shows in everything they say and do. They are too available, too eager to please, too accommodating, and they give too much -- all without getting anything in return. By doing so, they have made themselves appear desperate, insecure, and needy of this person's attention, affection, and approval -- and they have stripped themselves of any value in that person’s eyes. After all, if you’re already doing and giving everything, without them doing or giving anything - why would they value you? They won't. They are not going to value you any more than you value yourself. What they are going to do is look for someone else, someone who they perceive as being more worthy, more confident, and more valuable. It works like this: Once you need something, or you want it too badly, you forfeit your strength and lose all power of negotiation. You are in a position of weakness and you are perceived as weak. Someone (or something) else is in control of you, the situation, and it's outcome. People in this situation appear to be anything but confident, strong, and exciting. More, they are perceived as being unworthy and as lacking value. Translation: Things that are easily acquired, obtained, or maintained, without any effort or sacrifice, lack value... it's human nature. The secret to why the cocky/confident person winning with that person, over the nice person, is that they are perceived as being a stronger, more confident person with more value. How? They never invest everything -- their entire being, ego, and self-worth in what one person’s response or reaction to them is. They don't gush with compliments; they aren’t always available; they don't give too much; and they know they aren’t going to die if someone says "no" to them. More, their attitude is, yeah, I'd like to go out with you, but if I can't, that's OK -- I'm a busy person, with exciting things going on, and lots of other options
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