Daytona Bike-Week

Last night (Saturday, February 2, 2008), before shutting off this here rig to go to bed, I decided to Google “Daytona Bike-Week” to see if we had inadvertently scheduled our visit to the great land of the shadow of the mighty De Land water-tower the same week.
We have before. De Land is not far from Daytona. Beer-sodden grizzled road-warriors were crashing their blatting hogs into the scrub-pine.
We hadn’t; Bike-Week is the following week.
I got 89 bazilyun hits of course.
So I fired up the first, which claimed it was the official Bike-Week site.
Phantasmagoria!
I clicked “images” and it fired up pictures of obscenely unridable chops, and scantily-clad chicks.
I fired up one chick-pik, and all-of-a-sudden unbridled super-boobs were spilling all over my screen, despite my supposedly wonky ISP.
A thick-legged tart in high-heels, whose attire might have totaled perhaps five strategically-placed square inches, was struttin’ her stuff for them macho biker guys.
I attempted to download the pik — what Windoze people call right-click — but the picture was apparently locked.
I concluded later I could work around that by snapping a screen-shot of the locked image. But I won’t for FlagOut; maybe for the blog. (I can’t find it — 2/3/08.)
Right about then my wife walked by and said “Must be one of them Baptist hotties.” (The picture was labeled “hot chick.”)
“Yep,” I said; “just like Jack would pick up at the Broken Spoke to take for an airy thrill-ride on his amazing 100-horsepower GeezerGlide.”
There were scrolling arrows, like to the next picture. I passed over a multi-wheeled chop that looked like a trolley-car.
Finally, after about 4-5 piks, I came upon two bare-breasted waitresses (“servers,” WHATEVER) in an outdoor beer-garden, serving two grizzled Harley-dudes.
Their naked breasts were slathered in well-placed beer-foam.
“More Baptist hotties,” my wife exclaimed.
“Yep; things sure have changed since I was a kid,” I said. “I guess naked jiggling baboombas slathered in strategically-placed beer-foam are a Christian virtue.”

“Shadow of the mighty De Land water-tower” is where my wife’s 91-year-old (soon to be 92) mother lives, in a retirement community in “the shadow of the mighty De Land water-tower” in De Land, Florida.

“Hogs” are Harley-Davidson motorcycles.

A “chopper” (“chop”) is a highly-modified Harley-Davidson motorcycle; usually reduced to basics to cut weight.

RE: “.....despite my supposedly wonky ISP.” —ISP equals Internet-Service-Provider; in our case RoadRunner via the cable. Last July my macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston visited, and set up a wireless Internet connection to my wireless router. His Internet reception was spotty, so he loudly blamed our Internet-Service-Provider (ISP).

RE: “What Windoze people call right-click.....” —I drive an Apple MAC, as opposed to a Windows PC. To download an image-file on a Windows machine, you right-click the mouse. MAC uses another way. But to download an image at all, it can’t be “locked” on the web-site.

“FlagOut” is our family’s web-site, named that because I had a mentally-retarded kid-brother (Down Syndrome) who lived at home, and loudly insisted the flag be flown every day. “Flag-Out! Sun comes up, the flag goes up! Sun goes down, the flag comes down.” I fly the flag partly in his honor. (He died at 14 in 1968.)

RE: “Baptist hotties......” —A loud famblee argument has surfaced about “hottie.” I follow the old definition where “hottie” equaled a slut. But all my Christian-zealot relatives loudly declare that “hottie” has become a symbol of Christian virtue and attractiveness.

My wife of 40 years is “Linda.”

“Jack” is my loudmouthed macho brother-from-Boston who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He rides a Harley-Davidson ElectraGlide (a “GeezerGlide” — since he’s 50), which he noisily claims makes 100 horsepower (I doubt it). He attended a Daytona BikeWeek-like motorcycle orgy in New Hampshire, and while there picked up two beer-sodden buxom hotties at the Broken Spoke Saloon and gave them a thrill-ride.