Where are the Taste Police when you really need them?
Regular Kiwi Biker readers should by now be well familiar with my views on flouro vests.
Well tonight, whilst minding my own business returning the IT Guru to his Bat Cave, what should I spy with my little eye?
I need a few deep breaths to calm myself before sharing this next bit with you, gentle readers. I suggest that the aged and infirmed amongst you do something similar.
Are you all relaxed and sitting quietly?
OK.
Not just a flouro vest was spied. Not just a flouro vest whose markings were in the shape of an X. Oh noes.
I've come over all tremulous recalling that memory.
No. It was a flouro vest in the shape of a cross with...
Coloured lights.
Blue ones. And other shades too, but my retinas were scarred after the first assault.
I tasted a little sick in the back of my mouth, perhaps because I had inadvertently left my Death Ray Gun(TM) at home.
Dear oh dear.
Go safely through the darkness, oh Tasteless Biker. May Those In Authority Over Us not ticket your sorry arse for displaying non-red lights to the rear.
"Standing on your mother's corpse you told me that you'd wait forever." [Bryan Adams: Summer of 69]
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