Living In The Fast Lane

I, of course, am a lucky old fool to be alive. Here I sit, of a early morn in April, looking out at a rainy night sky. It is 1:25 AM, and the wise and gentle are in bed. I think oft-times of my life and times, and wonder at the fact I am amongst the living.

For years, I rode a fast-assed Harley, stayed drunk for days, and did my share of drugs. I raised a lot of hell, stayed out too late on a work night because I couldn't bear the thoughts of leaving my friends in the bar, and woke to a bottle of Jim Beam to get my day going. I lived this way for years, and stayed the course...

Now, of course, I am 62 years of age, and don't own a Harley any longer. But, there is a Triumph Bonneville in my garage that is faster than a striped ass ape, I have my times, and life is good. I wanna come sliding up to my grave, do a decent brody, and have a beer in one hand and a sweet redhead on the bitch pad, and say, "Whaddafuck, man! What a ride!"

Drive on,

Charlie~