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'My Corduroyed Life' - Mark A's Journal
Eeek.
I would write about the Madhouse minicon I went to over the weekend, but that'd involve a ridiculously long post that I couldn't cheat and do a cut and paste crime with... I'll do that tomorrow.
So yes: eeeeeeek!
I was a passenger on a motorbike for the first time today. I say 'rode', what I really mean is 'clung on for dear life'. Motorbikes are SO cool, SO masculine, and SO scary. Being a big speedway fan, I really heart motorbikes, but they are also the most scary pieces of machinery you're ever likely to see (unless you take Terminators into account, obviously).
Anyway, I was instructed on how to be a good passenger by my mate Pete (for those of you who've read this whole thing - the cunty one), but eeeeeeeeeek! It's so much more easily said than done. Apparently, one shouldn't freeze rigid with fear and try and stop the rider from tilting the bike to turn corners. Also, if one has done that on the journey to a location, on the way back one shouldn't do the complete opposite and lean into corners before the rider does.
Good technique:
Relax, hold rider with one arm, and hold back hand thing with other.
Mark A technique:
Tense up, cling to rider for dear life, squeal, and interlock your fingers so that they nearly break when the rider brakes.
We went a whole four miles (if not less). Pete found the whole thing amusing; I was ambivolent. Yay! Motorbikes. Eek! Fast speed, coldness, and exposed me.
Final thought: Yay! Motorbikes!
Have fun,
M
Current mood: Getting drunker by the minute.
Current music: All The Things She Said by Tatu.