What does your bike see when you're not there?

[Terminated]

Each night the bike is on the paddock stand, and just to let Hornet know where I came from....Sheeeesh

Buck what have you started

Heads Up and Enjoy

[Steam]

At night, when the garage is quiet and everyone is asleep...
My tools come alive and caper about.
The caipers strut about stiff-legged,
the hammers jump on one foot.
My saws become flexible and crawl like caterpillars across the floor.
The tape measure slithers like a snail, leaving a trail of slime.
The bench vice compains bitterly that it's bolted to the bench, and bargains with the sockets and crescents to undo the nuts.
Pliers and vice-grips jump about and duel each other,
while the carnivore of the tool-kit lurks in the darkness... the fearsome metal shears, like a moray eel, hides in the darkness ready to mutilate any foolish tool who strays near.

That's what my bike sees when I'm not there.
It's the only answer to why it's such a mess.

But in reality my bike sees a flax bush, some broken concrete, and some bushes. I don't got no garage.

[klingon]

LOL this is a funny topic, BuckBuck!

My bike sleeps in the garage, with company from its big friend the SV. My Volty goes out commuting most days, and also makes short trips to the shops, visiting friends, running errands... so it gets a bit of variety in its life.

The SV stays in the garage for weeks at a time and all it has for company is a car! I think it's probably too snobby to associate with the car. (I don't know if it talks to the beer fridge.)

[avgas]

She see's a brick wall with a razor wire fence on top. (See my attachments)
Dunno if its to keep them out or her in

[vifferman]

The VifFerraRi has to share the gargre with two French cars and a whole bunch of junk. Probably explains why it's sometimes so cranky in the mornings.

"Eh you... Japper! Wherez ze uzzer wheels? Are you deformed? You are zo urgleee! Your muzzair wuz a hamstair, and your farzer smelled of elderberriez!"

[nudemetalz]

My Guzzi tries to get it on with the 2 grotty dirt bikes there, with him being a bit of an Italian Stallion, but the old Yamaha "Uma" in her broken
Japanese-English tells Mr Guzzio they ain't worth it, they've been around some dodgy places.

[MotoGirl]

My bike and Cajun's bike are nose to nose in the garage, staring lovingly into each other's headlight(s) They can probably hear what the Hayabusa and Bandit are whispering to each other on the other side of the garage...

[Griff]

Each night the bike is on the paddock stand, and just to let Hornet know where I came from....

I have studied your attached image closely.

Are you telling us that you came from 3 off-white plastic chairs?
(Thats pretty whacked-out man!)

[Trudes]

My bike has her sexy arse stared at all night by that dirty dirty gixxer behind her, where all gixxers should be. That is until he goes to work in the morning and she's left in the garage all day to look after the kids (ok, my helmet).

[Lteejay]

Shared underground carparking - so she probably sees many 'awesome bike' faces as she basks in the glow of their admiration

Well at least thats what I think and I'm sticking with it

[imdying]

Walls are top to bottom with laminated bike posters

[vifferman]

My bike has her sexy arse stared at all night by that dirty dirty gixxer behind her, where all gixxers should be. That is until he goes to work in the morning and she's left in the garage all day to look after the kids (ok, my helmet).

Nice story, Mrs kendog, but what I'd really like to hear is the story about Naughty Barbie.

[Terminated]

I have studied your attached image closely.

Are you telling us that you came from 3 off-white plastic chairs?
(Thats pretty whacked-out man!)

Good one

For those times when you pull up a seat and sit awhile and have a beer or three, admiring the Hornet.

Heads Up and Enjoy

[zadok]

Great idea.
My bike gets to see a poster for "The World's Fastest Indian"
(You can just see it in the pic)

[Weaver]

At night, when the garage is quiet and everyone is asleep...
My tools come alive and caper about.
The caipers strut about stiff-legged,
the hammers jump on one foot.
My saws become flexible and crawl like caterpillars across the floor.
The tape measure slithers like a snail, leaving a trail of slime.
The bench vice compains bitterly that it's bolted to the bench, and bargains with the sockets and crescents to undo the nuts.
Pliers and vice-grips jump about and duel each other,
while the carnivore of the tool-kit lurks in the darkness... the fearsome metal shears, like a moray eel, hides in the darkness ready to mutilate any foolish tool who strays near.

Thats beautiful man


Depending on which way I park my bike in the carport, it either stares at a piece of shit 318i BMW. Or if its facing the other way, it gets to look at quite possibly the best car to come out of the UK