.....you can smell your own B.O.
.....your socks are wet before you put them on.
..... ?
.....you can smell your own B.O.
.....your socks are wet before you put them on.
..... ?
.....when you hear the words ''honey did you pack the conditioner''?
...I was sure the puncture repair kit was under the seat.
... you have a smile on your face
Even though your arse hurts...
...you have to force yourself to stop and look at the scenery.
......work is pissed off with you for not being contactable and you don't care.
Just another leather clad Tinkerbell.
The Wanker on the Fucking Harley is going for a ride!
...when after 637 kms the receptionist says ''sorry, you were booked in last weekend''.
...When you're on the wrong side of the road and you're meant to be.
...the cafe owner in ballarat says your missus sounds like she is straight out of the bush!
Only a Rat can win a Rat Race!
Damp thermals (or undies) from the mornings "soak and then squeeze dry" mission, flapping from under a tie down off the back, aka the mini mobile clothesline!
The disposable raincoat is in shreds within half an hour....![]()
ter·ra in·cog·ni·taAchievement is not always success while reputed failure often is. It is honest endeavor, persistent effort to do the best possible under any and all circumstances.
Orison Swett Marden
.... you're pulling receipts out of your wallet cos you left the bog roll at the last stop.
Zen wisdom: No matter what happens, somebody will find a way to take it too seriously. - obviously had KB in mind when he came up with that gem
Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity
...you're actually bored with cafe food.
Can I believe the magic of your size... (The Shirelles)
....people ask you where you're from and you have trouble understanding one another, and you're still in NZ!
Only a Rat can win a Rat Race!
You can smell the odour of road kill on every road and the smell becomes stronger as you slow down then fades again as you take your helmet off.
Political correctness: a doctrine which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd from the clean end.
..words like timetable, schedule, plans and appointments no longer have any meaning to you.
Happiness is a means of travel, not a destination
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