Post Whoring Newbie Thread
10-24-2007, 11:09 AM
#5943
Moderatio est Figmentum
Superstock
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: Covington, Georgia
Posts: 427
Three men - a Canadian farmer, Osama bin Laden and a Texan are all working together one day.
They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it.
"I will give each on you one wish, which is three wishes in total", says the Genie.
The Canadian says, "I am a farmer and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada ."
POOF! With the blink of the Genie's eye, the land in Canada was forever fertile for farming.
Osama was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan , Palestine , Iraq and Iran so that no infidels, Americans or Canadians can come in our our precious land."
POOF! Again, with the blink of the Genie's eye, there was a huge wall around those countries.
The Texan says, "I am very curious. Please tell me more about this wall."
The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 5,000 feet high, 5oo feet thick and completely surrounds the country. Nothing can get in or out; it's virtually impenetrable."
The Texan sits down, cracks a beer, smiles, and says, "Fill it with water."
They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it.
"I will give each on you one wish, which is three wishes in total", says the Genie.
The Canadian says, "I am a farmer and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada ."
POOF! With the blink of the Genie's eye, the land in Canada was forever fertile for farming.
Osama was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan , Palestine , Iraq and Iran so that no infidels, Americans or Canadians can come in our our precious land."
POOF! Again, with the blink of the Genie's eye, there was a huge wall around those countries.
The Texan says, "I am very curious. Please tell me more about this wall."
The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 5,000 feet high, 5oo feet thick and completely surrounds the country. Nothing can get in or out; it's virtually impenetrable."
The Texan sits down, cracks a beer, smiles, and says, "Fill it with water."
10-24-2007, 03:21 PM
#5944
Moderate-whore
MotoGP
Join Date: Nov 2005
Location: Leander TX!!
Posts: 9,049
Three men - a Canadian farmer, Osama bin Laden and a Texan are all working together one day.
They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it.
"I will give each on you one wish, which is three wishes in total", says the Genie.
The Canadian says, "I am a farmer and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada ."
POOF! With the blink of the Genie's eye, the land in Canada was forever fertile for farming.
Osama was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan , Palestine , Iraq and Iran so that no infidels, Americans or Canadians can come in our our precious land."
POOF! Again, with the blink of the Genie's eye, there was a huge wall around those countries.
The Texan says, "I am very curious. Please tell me more about this wall."
The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 5,000 feet high, 5oo feet thick and completely surrounds the country. Nothing can get in or out; it's virtually impenetrable."
The Texan sits down, cracks a beer, smiles, and says, "Fill it with water."
They come across a lantern and a Genie pops out of it.
"I will give each on you one wish, which is three wishes in total", says the Genie.
The Canadian says, "I am a farmer and my son will also farm. I want the land to be forever fertile in Canada ."
POOF! With the blink of the Genie's eye, the land in Canada was forever fertile for farming.
Osama was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around Afghanistan , Palestine , Iraq and Iran so that no infidels, Americans or Canadians can come in our our precious land."
POOF! Again, with the blink of the Genie's eye, there was a huge wall around those countries.
The Texan says, "I am very curious. Please tell me more about this wall."
The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 5,000 feet high, 5oo feet thick and completely surrounds the country. Nothing can get in or out; it's virtually impenetrable."
The Texan sits down, cracks a beer, smiles, and says, "Fill it with water."
10-24-2007, 03:46 PM
#5945
Senior Member
Superstock
Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: Hampton GA
Posts: 442
Here's a blast from the past.....
http://youtube.com/watch?v=cSILEltroWc
http://youtube.com/watch?v=cSILEltroWc
10-24-2007, 03:58 PM
#5946
Banned
MotoGP
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: Lake View Terrace, CA
Posts: 5,942
10-24-2007, 04:08 PM
#5947
Banned
MotoGP
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: Lake View Terrace, CA
Posts: 5,942
A classic Bay Area best of Craigslist:
The Time I Lost Control of My Bowels on the Water Slide
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2006-11-16, 10:56AM MST
My last few months have been racked with guilt and shame over a horrible incident and the need to purge myself has become overwhelming. So I turn to you for a compassionate ear.
Last summer, I took my girlfriend, I'll call her Beulah, and her son, I'll call him Eugene, to a water amusement park, attempting to nurture the bond that was forming between us. After a busy morning of paddleboats and bumper cars, we took a moment to refresh ourselves with a hardy lunch of chili dogs, cheese fries, and lemonade. Relaxing under shade trees, Eugene smiled a chili-smeared grin, as the sun cast its languid glow over the park. With the leisurely picnic ending, we hastily dispersed to the changing rooms, in anticipation of our next adventure—the giant water slide.
During our first run, I noticed a gnawing, internal discomfort, although the first sure signs of brown-capping weren’t apparent until Eugene and I climbed the half-mile of stairs to the summit, for our second run. Unfortunately, I had taken the opportunity, to wear a most-revealing, blue Speedo, in the hope of further enamoring myself to the beautiful Beulah. Lord knows, I have the body to accommodate such a blatant, public display of manhood.
However, I soon began to regret my decision, for the sharp, cut of the elastic dug into my swelling, gaseous abdomen. My intestines were bubbling like a whirlpool. By the time we reached the loading platform at the summit, I was squirming in wretched misery. Considering my options, I surmised that taking the slide was far more promising than fighting my way back down the stairs, through the crowd. Thank God I was next in line. My trouble would soon be over. The only obstacle before me was an elderly German tourist, staring pensively at the wild rapids. With obvious reservation, he shuffled slowly toward the mouth of the blue tunnel. Beyond the point of pleasantries, I bellowed, “Come on, Pops! Shake a leg!”
Turning toward the acne-pocked boy who was managing the ride that day, he made a feeble attempt in his native tongue to communicate his apprehension. I had no other choice! The brown star pulsated—nearing supernova. The manager boy recoiled in shock as I pushed the old man down the slide, headfirst. Cursing me with hostile foreign jibberish, he disappeared around the first turn. In an instant, I followed, hurling myself down the slick, plastic vortex.
The fury of the slide was incredible. Rolling and spinning, I gathered speed quickly. The angle of the chute dipped to nearly seventy degrees, increasing my velocity as I careened from side to side, the water turning to white, angry foam. Ricocheting from a high, banking wall, the impact smashed me like some fecal-laden pinata. I lost control, discharging a foul, liquid trail.
A child screamed somewhere behind me, as I slid toward certain humiliation below. Frantically, I grabbed at the back of my Speedo, in a desperate attempt to flush myself clean. To my dismay, a fetid school of dung-guppies spilled into the churning maelstrom.
Nearing the final turn, the old man was standing upright in the tunnel in front of me, I’m sure, to exact some sort of revenge. His sinewy muscles were tensed, rage filled his dilated eyes. But with youth, and gravity, on my side, I swiftly took him out at the ankles. A palsied hand grabbed me as we tumbled out of the chute, and into the pool.
Moments later, a wailing boy fell behind us, riding the crest of a polluted wave. Thinking fast, I collared the old man, and dragged him onto the concrete deck. A lifeguard confronted us as people ran screaming from the pool in pale-faced terror. I explained to the guard how the old man had soiled the waters, how obviously the speed and excitement had proven too much for a man of his age and condition.
Unable to comprehend my story, or explain himself, the old man could only respond with a flurry of incomprehensible shrieks, vective, and obscene gestures. I suggested that he was hysterical from embarassment and that in the best interests of everyone that he be removed from the park—immediately.
The guard eyed me with suspicion, but had no alternative but to believe my story. Fortunately, the force of the waters had washed me thoroughly of any incriminating evidence. I gathered Beulah and Eugene, and made a dash for the parking lot. I’m sure the truth eventually surfaced, but not until we were safely on the interstate, heading back home.
The Time I Lost Control of My Bowels on the Water Slide
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2006-11-16, 10:56AM MST
My last few months have been racked with guilt and shame over a horrible incident and the need to purge myself has become overwhelming. So I turn to you for a compassionate ear.
Last summer, I took my girlfriend, I'll call her Beulah, and her son, I'll call him Eugene, to a water amusement park, attempting to nurture the bond that was forming between us. After a busy morning of paddleboats and bumper cars, we took a moment to refresh ourselves with a hardy lunch of chili dogs, cheese fries, and lemonade. Relaxing under shade trees, Eugene smiled a chili-smeared grin, as the sun cast its languid glow over the park. With the leisurely picnic ending, we hastily dispersed to the changing rooms, in anticipation of our next adventure—the giant water slide.
During our first run, I noticed a gnawing, internal discomfort, although the first sure signs of brown-capping weren’t apparent until Eugene and I climbed the half-mile of stairs to the summit, for our second run. Unfortunately, I had taken the opportunity, to wear a most-revealing, blue Speedo, in the hope of further enamoring myself to the beautiful Beulah. Lord knows, I have the body to accommodate such a blatant, public display of manhood.
However, I soon began to regret my decision, for the sharp, cut of the elastic dug into my swelling, gaseous abdomen. My intestines were bubbling like a whirlpool. By the time we reached the loading platform at the summit, I was squirming in wretched misery. Considering my options, I surmised that taking the slide was far more promising than fighting my way back down the stairs, through the crowd. Thank God I was next in line. My trouble would soon be over. The only obstacle before me was an elderly German tourist, staring pensively at the wild rapids. With obvious reservation, he shuffled slowly toward the mouth of the blue tunnel. Beyond the point of pleasantries, I bellowed, “Come on, Pops! Shake a leg!”
Turning toward the acne-pocked boy who was managing the ride that day, he made a feeble attempt in his native tongue to communicate his apprehension. I had no other choice! The brown star pulsated—nearing supernova. The manager boy recoiled in shock as I pushed the old man down the slide, headfirst. Cursing me with hostile foreign jibberish, he disappeared around the first turn. In an instant, I followed, hurling myself down the slick, plastic vortex.
The fury of the slide was incredible. Rolling and spinning, I gathered speed quickly. The angle of the chute dipped to nearly seventy degrees, increasing my velocity as I careened from side to side, the water turning to white, angry foam. Ricocheting from a high, banking wall, the impact smashed me like some fecal-laden pinata. I lost control, discharging a foul, liquid trail.
A child screamed somewhere behind me, as I slid toward certain humiliation below. Frantically, I grabbed at the back of my Speedo, in a desperate attempt to flush myself clean. To my dismay, a fetid school of dung-guppies spilled into the churning maelstrom.
Nearing the final turn, the old man was standing upright in the tunnel in front of me, I’m sure, to exact some sort of revenge. His sinewy muscles were tensed, rage filled his dilated eyes. But with youth, and gravity, on my side, I swiftly took him out at the ankles. A palsied hand grabbed me as we tumbled out of the chute, and into the pool.
Moments later, a wailing boy fell behind us, riding the crest of a polluted wave. Thinking fast, I collared the old man, and dragged him onto the concrete deck. A lifeguard confronted us as people ran screaming from the pool in pale-faced terror. I explained to the guard how the old man had soiled the waters, how obviously the speed and excitement had proven too much for a man of his age and condition.
Unable to comprehend my story, or explain himself, the old man could only respond with a flurry of incomprehensible shrieks, vective, and obscene gestures. I suggested that he was hysterical from embarassment and that in the best interests of everyone that he be removed from the park—immediately.
The guard eyed me with suspicion, but had no alternative but to believe my story. Fortunately, the force of the waters had washed me thoroughly of any incriminating evidence. I gathered Beulah and Eugene, and made a dash for the parking lot. I’m sure the truth eventually surfaced, but not until we were safely on the interstate, heading back home.
10-24-2007, 06:53 PM
#5950
Senior Member
SuperBike
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Williamsburg, VA
Posts: 2,455
I've decided to buy an 1125r.....
I know, I know....Buell sucks....blah blah blah
The 16 year old girl that hit my wife is paying for it, actually I suppose it'll be her parents. Very nice of them really.
I know, I know....Buell sucks....blah blah blah
The 16 year old girl that hit my wife is paying for it, actually I suppose it'll be her parents. Very nice of them really.
10-25-2007, 04:39 AM
#5951
Post Whore Junior
MotoGP
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Triad, NC
Posts: 4,825
I want a DETAILED analysis of your experience with the 1125r, Drew. I've been looking at them online... They look ... ok, let's not go on looks.. the performance specs look very awsome. almost 150 hp (146), torquey, light, water-cooled, larger fuel tank (both sides of frame), rotax engine.. I'm anxious to hear one with some after market exhaust...
And for the record. IMO, Buell only sucked cause they used that old sportster engine.. I think everyone is going to have to reconsider their stance on whether Buell still sucks... I for one NEVER thought they "sucked".. just that they were a novelty bike.. not functional..
And for the record. IMO, Buell only sucked cause they used that old sportster engine.. I think everyone is going to have to reconsider their stance on whether Buell still sucks... I for one NEVER thought they "sucked".. just that they were a novelty bike.. not functional..
Last edited by Cleveland; 10-25-2007 at 05:04 AM.
10-25-2007, 05:24 AM
#5955
Moderatio est Figmentum
Superstock
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: Covington, Georgia
Posts: 427
Aunt Mildred
Aging Aunt Mildred was a 93-year-old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death. Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out his old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was badly broken in the first place. Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire a s to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman. The doctor said, "Your heart would be just below your left breast". Later that night........ Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.
10-25-2007, 10:36 AM
#5956
Post Whore Junior
MotoGP
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Triad, NC
Posts: 4,825
10-25-2007, 10:57 AM
#5959
Moderatio est Figmentum
Superstock
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: Covington, Georgia
Posts: 427
10-25-2007, 11:17 AM
#5961
Senior Member
SuperBike
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Williamsburg, VA
Posts: 2,455
I'm on the waiting list for Ray Price Harley in Raleigh. They are only getting 6 before Christmas. First bike will be the demo, second one is mine.
10-25-2007, 12:55 PM
#5962
Utardian Extraordinaire
Squid
Join Date: Sep 2007
Posts: 87
I had the privilege of romping an 1125R for a few hours at the track for a Buell/Inside Pass track day. Let me tell you……………that motor turns the Buell from a well suspended low power piece of **** in to one hell of a motorcycle. It sold me on the fun that could be had with a big twin and prompted the purchase of my SH. I jumped off my XX and on to the 1125R and made the mistake of underestimating the brakes (the brakes on the XX are much better than on the SH) at triple digits and proceeded to scare the **** out of myself by getting the rear off the ground at about 120mph while braking hard to make a corner. From then on it was a one finger affair with the front as two had her fanny thrusting to the sky much like your date on prom night. The motor pulls like a train from 3500 RPM to it’s 10.5K redline. I was mighty impressed with the bike. Even at 4700 feet above sea level the bikes front end comes up in first gear with a healthy roll-on in first and shoots up quite nicely if shifted in to second in a moderately aggressive manner. The bikes we were riding were prototypes and didn’t have everything dialed in like production models. I would imagine that the production versions are at least slightly better in terms of performance.
In terms of comfort I’d say that it’s pretty comparable to the SH but out of the box it will eat a stock SH alive in terms of performance. I’d guess that a properly jetted SH with the typical affordable bolt on performance stuff and geared way down would give a stock 1125R a run for it’s money up to about 100 MPH. If you were to throw corners in the equation the SH suspension would have to be professionally rebuilt and setup in order to keep the Buell in sight.
In terms of comfort I’d say that it’s pretty comparable to the SH but out of the box it will eat a stock SH alive in terms of performance. I’d guess that a properly jetted SH with the typical affordable bolt on performance stuff and geared way down would give a stock 1125R a run for it’s money up to about 100 MPH. If you were to throw corners in the equation the SH suspension would have to be professionally rebuilt and setup in order to keep the Buell in sight.
10-26-2007, 06:29 AM
#5969
Utardian Extraordinaire
Squid
Join Date: Sep 2007
Posts: 87
