My tankbag has turned into a talisman, it is a collection of items that evoke feelings and memories. Like a voodoo priest with a bag full of ground up ravens beak and monkey paw my tank bag protects me and gives me some powerfull moto mojo.
Contents
1) A left black leather glove that I bought in the early 90's.
2) portions of old maps that have been marinated in Stabil and rancid gatorade.
3) Tire plug tools that have rusted into a gob with hastily chucked in change from late night frantic tollbooth sessions in Chicago.
4) Miscellaneous grey kanked up earplugs. (do not us! I used them during a particularily wet Sturgis trip and have had nasty old man flaky skin in my ears ever since)
5) A nasty 20 year old pair of underwear that I have been using to check my oil with since george bush number one was vice president.
6) A bottle of Tabasco (it makes anything I cook or buy in questionable circumstances palatable)
7) a big gob of petrified wasabi covered soy nuts, peanuts, hunks of gummi snakes impaled by a green ended double A battery that failed our camera in a real cool canyon in the rockies.
8) Business card from The Marie laveaux voodoo gift shop in Sunk Orleans.
Come to think of it the only reason I take a tank bag is because a buddy of mine gave it to me and then he died and now I miss him. I guess the most important things in a tank bag are the memories.
Now make me proud and go make some of your own.
I STINK THEREFORE I AM
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Sunday, December 9, 2007
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