Terms (and Conditions) of Endearment

Really not feeling the love on the motorcycle forums lately, but, this being the internet, that’s okay because I’ve found ready and open arms elsewhere. Being Valentines Day and whatnot, here’s a satirical take on that, through the complete exploitation of the otherwise excellent Tim Minchin song If You Really Loved Me.

If You Nearly Loved Me

Sharing is caring, and if you were daring
You’d carve our initials into a police-bike’s faring
Yes, I know, this fleet is being phased out
But pedantry’s not what love is about
If you loved me unconditionally
You’d devise a scheme such as this for me

Because we go together
Like kisses and hugs
Like Twitter and cheap vodka
Like footballers and drugs
And if you had me in your heart
Then you wouldn’t fob me off, and force me to start
A blog on your attitude – if that’s what I have to do
Perhaps you’d show, oh I don’t know, a little more gratitude?!
But hey that’s crazy, I’m sure we’ll be fine
Our destinies being intertwined

We’re a natural fit
Like a troll and a n00b
Like derp and YouTube comments
Like Instagram and food
And if you really wanted to flesh out your role
You’d vote for my friend in all their online polls
Which I don’t consider to be cheating
Sometimes the odds could do with some tweaking
I’m not trying to make a fuss
Just trying to make a future for us

I crave you
The way a blogger craves attention
Or a rider craves a twisty road
Or an incel craves affection

And if you love me as mentioned before
You’ll agree there’s room for one more
And who doesn’t like to share a dessert
That has low self esteem and a tight-fitting shirt
You and I share a sweet tooth
But the pudding is where you’ll find the proof
And love is not always syrup and dumplings
There’s likes, follows, DMs and leg-humping
And no one said love is easy
But if you love me as much as you say
You’ll bring home some take-away

We belong together
Like an activist and a dream
Like a slactkivist and a meme
Like a hacktivist and a scheme

And if you feel romantically inclined
Then, by all means, defend my honour online
And challenge my opponents to a pistol duel
When I find their comments hurtful or cruel
Should the old-fashion pistols themselves attract scorn,
Then track-days, or flame wars, or wheelies at dawn
Are all okay too
It’s what lovers do

We’re a true pairing
Like festivals and pills
Like Gore-tex and Kevlar
Like swerves and oil-spills

And if our love is on the right path
You’ll give my Ninja ZX-R a lovely bath
Surely a wax is not that much to ask
Just a little work to clear up a few scrapes and scuffs
An oil change, a chain lube, a polish and buff
If you cared about me, you’d take care of that stuff
To free up my time while I watch MotoGP
If you loved me unconditionally

(c) 2019

A Nod and a Don

Water is appearing in Perth skies in mid-October, so obviously the citizenry has to some degree been losing its collective shit. This parody of the 1984 Don Henley song Boys of Summer, is my tribute to the stoic resolve of those motorcyclists who are compelled to ride in wintery conditions, by either circumstance or sheer madness.  In lieu of a salute – not the appropriate manoeuvre while riding – I offer that powerfully succinct gesture which seeks to unite us in our times of peak anonymity: *nods*

Toys of Summer
Silent drizzle from the dark sky
Sprayed at me from cars
A chill in the air
And in gore-tex and kevlar
Mild headwinds, slippery roads,
Cagers brake too soon
A droplet finds it way in
What the hell am I doing?

Then I see you
Your headlight peerin’ through the grey
You got your high beam on and that’s okay, baby
And I can tell you, your nod makes me feel less alone
Now that the toys of summer have gone

I never will forget that ride
How many k’s in all?
Remember who I shadowed there?
Remember how my own bike stalled?
Now I can understand
Why some won’t come to play,
But babe I’m gonna be out there
A few clouds won’t scare me away

Then I see you
The rain beads on your leather
I see you grit your teeth through
This fkn weather
I can tell you, the sight of you makes me feel strong
After the toys of summer have gone

Out on the road today I saw a first aid sticker on a four-wheel drive
A little voice inside my head said, “Heed that omen to stay alive.”
I thought I had common sense – what would I know?
The road whispers my name and off I go

Then I see you
At the Give Way sign
The rain briefly clears making
Everything shine, baby
And I can tell you your nod puts me back in the zone
After the toys of summer have gone

Then I see you
Your headlight peerin’ through the grey
You got your high beam on and
That’s okay, baby
And I can tell you, your nod has got me going strong
Now that the toys of summer have gone

Footnotes: cager = term used by motorcyclists and cyclists to denote the driver of a four-wheeled motor vehicle. Gore-Tex and Kevlar are trademarks (of products designed to prevent, respectively, water saturation and death by gravel-rash).

Born to Ride

[ Original song: Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band, although I quite fancied the cover by Frankie Goes to Hollywood and often sing that version in my head. There I said it.

FNR = Friday Night Ride, a group ride organised on the internet for skilled riders, and alleged to be of a rather enthusiastic pace ] .

Born to Run
In the day we tear it up in the hijinks of runaway off-topic threads
At night we ride through the back-roads and highways with the mongrels and thoroughbreds
Sprung from driveways obscure and discreet
High-octane premium and taking over the streets
Baby this town is half-asleep
We’re the black sheep, we’re in waist deep
We gotta take that in our stride
`Cos tramps like us, baby we were born to ride

Clear out some DMs I wanna be your friend
I want to sneak in under your guard
Just perch your feet on the pillion pegs
And hold on fairly hard
Together we could split from the pack
We can set the pace before leisurely dropping back
Will you give me the nod to go
`Cos baby I’m just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta escape this place
And if I’m going to fall, it might as well be from grace

Down by the river a low rumbling growl stirs along The Boulevard
Meanwhile coastal roads bear the high-pitched roar
That marks the start of the FNR
High-beams at night cast an eerie light
As we carve through the Swan Valley mist
Then you drop a gear and scream ahead
An invitation too good to resist

The tunnel’s lit up with all the excitement of an overdue social run
Everybody’s out to be seen tonight but I’m only looking for one
Together one day we can live with the derp
I’ll rub out this hurt and baby we’ll never look back
Someday soon, I can’t say when, were gonna get to that place
Where we really should be and we won’t have to hide
But till then, tramps like us, baby we were born to ride

Riding Close to the Edge

[ A parody of the U2 song All I Want is You, first posted on a motorcycling forum a few years back]

You say you want
The bruises to go away
You say you want
To get through the next ride unscathed

For all the facetious things I say
From the persona that I portray
When all I want is you

You say you’ll give me
A group ride with no civilians
A forum with no pillions
Rep plus eleventy billion

You say you’ll give me
A shared joke amongst good friends
A journey with some sharp bends
Grammar that doesn’t offend

All the ninja edits that I make
The rants and the piss-takes
When all I want is you

You say you want
To understand me clearly
To impress me with a wheelie

You say you want
Time to chill out with me
Threads that aren’t so bitchy
A ride that’s fast and twisty

All the newbies and the trolls
All the emoticons and lols
When all I want is you

You say you want
Good riding weather today
The mods to look the other way
A post that isn’t an essay

You say you’ll give me
Secrets with no regrets
Brakes that work in the wet
Nine thousand Internets

Of all the promises I break
You’re my worst and best mistake
When all I want is you