The Horse

Today I was sitting here reading the January issue of The Horse Magazine.

The reason I'm reading a back issue is because the Florida literary review committee has deemed them a threat to the well being and security of inmates.  Therefore, have rejected my last three issues.

The thing that amazes me is that we are in a men's prison.  Not the boy scouts.  Every man here is over 18.  We can fight for our country, give our life on a front line, buy beer and cigarettes, but all the music you purchase on your MP3 player will be completely edited.  Recently it's been the publications.  My Men's Health was rejected because it taught you how to tie a knot.

You learn how to tie your shoes at like 5.  It's a milestone in a boys life.  If you don't know how to tie a knot and you are currently old enough to do time in a men's prison, then you're two fries short of a happy meal.  If this is the case, than clearly you need to learn to tie one.  Did the prison stop to consider this would be a good thing?  

If you're over 18 and can't tie a knot you need to learn.  And you'll no doubt be so proud of yourself, the last thing on your mind would be a noose to hang yourself with.  That's the only threat I can think of.  Other than that, not much else would constitute a knot as a threat.

So what's the problem with The Horse Magazine?  Before prison, I was a terrible drug addict.  I was fortunate to be a drug addict with a motorcycle.  I dated a woman in my late teen years who owned a Harley Davidson Sportster 1200.  After riding it for nearly a year, I purchased my own.  I went for a 1997 Road King with the quick detach saddlebags and windshield.  This way I could quickly transform a touring bike into a sleek old girl with curves to kill.

Riding that bike was the only time I was free from the prison addiction placed on my life.  So today, in my current prison, I enjoy revisiting that freedom.  And I do that when I sit down and read The Horse.  Notice I didn't mention that other biker magazine?  Although it's wonderful to see half dressed women draped on motorcycles, I like to see bikes that even I could afford.  If you'll turn with me to page 32 of The Horse issue #126, you will see an article written by a dude called Mudd.  An underground chopper story called Nikki.

If you consider your relationship with your bike a love affair, you need to read this man's article.  Brilliant.  I do a little writing myself, and was moved to tears to see a man as passionate about his bike as I am.  This magazine is tasteful and even a conservative woman like my own is not put off my the women featured.  It's obvious to see that The Horse is a magazine about the bikes, the men who build them, and then actually ride what they build.  When the prison rejects my magazines I take option number two and send them home.

Home is where my wonderful lady patiently awaits my return.  While she waits, she can read my rejected issues of The Horse.

Make A Difference In Somebody's Life

Today, J.J. reflected back to this time of year when he was a free man.  A free man on his Harley, loaded with toys for Toys For Tots, taking off for a Toy Run with thousands of other bikers.  He remembered the joy he felt when delivering toys to children that may not have a Christmas.

In the words of J.J. "It was so cool to watch all these bad-ass bikers load up their bikes with huge stuffed animals and other toys.  Then watch their faces glow as they make a difference in children's lives.  God, I can't wait to do that again!"

Don't judge a book by it's cover.  A bad-ass can have a soft heart.

These toys travel from the bike to a child's arm...giving them a very Merry Christmas!  Be sure that you stop and smile.  See the people around you.  Make a difference in somebody's life.  And please, say a prayer for the millions of families that are missing their father/mother, husband/wife, son/daughter, brother/sister, or friend as they are on the other side of the fence.    

 

Flat J.J.

So, you know that J.J. recently had visitors.  The MOM, sister Abby and Brooke (the typist) traveled to Florida and stopped to see J.J.  In between visits, J.J. enjoyed some time in Venice, Florida with us!  Check out some of what Flat J.J. enjoyed.......

Flat J.J. is all buckled up and ready for his adventures!

First Stop?  Nokomis Beach, of course!

Yeah, yeah....we know....J.J. would prefer to be on a Harley.  But a bike ride around Venice would be fun too!

J.J. LOVES Florida!  He LOVES the sun, the beach, the palms....

Can't help but smile.....the Intracoastal Waterway just makes you smile!

AHHHHH!  Watch out J.J.  (J.J. likes to go shark fishing.)

Of course he will smile in a tattoo chair!

HAHAHAHAHA!

Somebody thought J.J. was cute!

A day at the Jetties!

Enjoying an evening of drums, belly dancers and a sunset!

A sunset at the Jetties!

J.J. loves Harley Davidson!

J.J. on a Fatboy!

Well, this shirt is fitting.  :)

Having fun shopping!

Yep, look how happy he is!

Tattoo'd Hooligan Loves Harley Davidson

So, some new art he drew. 
"People are like motorcyles; each is customized a bit differently."

Live Fast. Ride Faster.

J.J. lives by this motto himself.  In the car.  On the Harley.  On a bike.  Really, J.J. is ready to go as fast as possible whenever, wherever.  How about you? 

Bike Week (NSFW)

"Someone recently subscribed me to a biker magazine – “V-Twin.”

Ever since, I have had motorcycles on my mind.  It beats having women on my mind.  They will both kill you.  I’m not quite sure which one is a better way to go, but a motorcycle is quicker.  A woman will kill you slowly.  You can leave your bike at home alone or out in the cold and it won’t complain.  Best part!  You can jump on your bike and ride any time….

Bikes have become a huge part of my life.  The farthest back I can remember was at age 12.

It was a Sunday and our family was headed to church.  A large group of bikes passed us and a smile slowly spread across my face.  Men with long hair and tattoos, bikes with loud pipes that made our car vibrate.  …And the women hanging on to those guys.  I thought to myself, If only I had a motorbike, I could win my crush’s heart.

After that, my BMX was transformed with the help of a crushed soda can jammed into the rear tire-tread.  I cruised my neighborhood as a little boy with huge dreams.

Funny, where life takes you.  I have been on a long, hard journey for many, many years.  Over 20 years have passed since that silly boy had that BMX and a dream.

I finally got me a real Harley and I have a ton of bike stories.  Even funnier: I heard from that girl I mentioned – the crush – she’s now a woman and looked me up to check on me.  I smiled and couldn’t help but remember that silly 12-year-old boy.  I told her I owe her a Harley ride.  So if you’re reading this, the offer still stands.  And whenever I’m stopped at a traffic light with a cutie riding behind me and see an eager face stuck to the window in the car next to me, I give him a smile and a thumbs-up.  Maybe I just gave him a dream as well.

I said I had some stories, and I do.  The most vivid would be of Bike Week in Key West, Florida.

…Stopped at a red light on Duvall Street, an underdressed woman steps into the street and climbs aboard my chariot.  Ah… the life of a biker!  All I know is that a whole heap of tits, ass, and high heels is now straddling me.  I was young and eager at the ripe old age of 24.  I was also naïve and failed to notice my passenger came from the local transvestite bar.  Although the body behind me had tits, it wasn’t born with them.

(I've been fooled, too)

He exited my bike at the next light.

I caught hell for that from my riding partners.  What I couldn’t see in my rear-view, they all had seen from the start.  If only objects in the mirror did not appear smaller than they are, I may have noticed the dick.  Then again, I’m a guy.  The tits had me fooled.

That’s OK, I got it right and had two hot, naked women making-out on my bike later that night.  God, I hope my Mom didn’t find those pictures when she packed up my house….

If you ever find yourself in Key West, check out Captain Tony’s and have a sandwich at Sloppy Joes.  Two fine places to chill.  …Just watch out for the night life.  That place can be dangerous!

Another year, we did the Myrtle Beach bike rally.  I had a Road King then, and my friend and I rode the 800 miles to the event.  Nearly the whole ride was in heavy rain.

We pulled in to our campground soaked.  Our women had followed in a van with tents and camping supplies.  That night it rained and everything was soaked.  The general out-look of a biker is fuck it!  So we cracked beers at 8 a.m. and drank breakfast.

The bar in Myrtle Beach to check out is Suck, Bang, and Blow.  It’s a well-known biker bar.  It’s a burn-out bar.  You ride your bike in a side door, pull up to the bar, and do a burn-out.  Many guys will completely smoke their whole tire off.  They even have a tire shop that replaces tires.

The bartenders wear chaps with thongs and, standing on the bar, shoot the crowd with super-soakers.  Bikers have a hard life.

(Just more of God's children, making daddy proud...)

After a big day of drinking and staring at boobs, we return to our flooded campsite.  Everything is now soaked.  We build a campfire and then sit around in lawn chairs butt-ass naked.  Yes, naked.  …Drinking beer and laughing our asses off.

It’s late, and we’re the only campers still up and carrying on.  An older biker walks up and begins to chat with us.  My buddy stands up to grab him a beer – naked, dick swinging.  The old-school biker takes the beer, cracks the top and says, “Looks like you all are having a good time.”  He then casually walks away.

These are the things you see at biker events.  …Especially at the campgrounds.  Personally, I love it.  Miss the hell out of it.  Hello, Sturgis!!  As soon as they let me out of this chicken coop, I’m ready for some more boobs!  Anybody for camping?

Bikers are a different breed.  Loud pipes and wind in your hair spells freedom for this group of people.  You see tattoos, muscles, chains and leather, long beards and even longer hair - Lots of skin - boobs are a given.  Nudity is common.  It’s an adult good time.

Bikers are a good bunch of people, always looking out for their own.  …Just think of all the charity rides that bikers organize each year for those in need.  Toys for Tots is a huge, well-organized ride for families in need.  Gathering presents so children can have a Christmas.  There’s nothing cooler than seeing a hard-core biker headed to a charity event holding a teddy-bear.  It touches your heart.  Personally, I think angels come in all shapes and sizes.

(Thanks to the Texarkana Gazette)

A nice afternoon would be cruising down some back road.  Wind in my hair.  My woman leaned up, whispering something in my ear, her arms wrapped around me.  Steppenwolf and “Born to Be Wild” on the stereo.

They say you can tell a happy biker by the bugs in his teeth.  For that very reason, I like windshields.

Sometimes at night, when the prison is quiet, I can hear a Harley’s pipes cutting through the air.  I wonder if that rider is calling out to his brothers on this side of the fence.  …Makes me remember that 12 year old boy and his big dreams.

I also remember that I owe someone a ride.  On my Harley, of course!"      


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