Who’s a punk now?

A few days ago, one of my ‘friends’ put a comment on this blog calling me a punk. I’d like to respond.

First, some background on the perpetrator.

1. He’s old. Really old. Over 30 old. He tries to hang out with younger guys, to look hip and cool, and it’s just sad.
   
2. He blow-dries his hair. How much more of a woman can you be?
   
3. He rides a bike. It’s a sissy blue bike, but it’s still a bike. If you can’t ride a raven R6, then an older, not as fast, no inverted fork blue R6 is probably the next best thing.
   

What’s the purpose of this post? Just a little rubbing in. You see, I’m way cooler than he is. Here’s why:

1. My bike is black, and has inverted forks, and is faster. At least .1 seconds faster in the ¼ mile.
   
2. I don’t blow dry my hair. I never have. Ever.
   
3. There are mountains all around me. There is a crazy steep, twisty road right near our temporary housing, and a whole range of mountain roads about an hour away.
   
4. There is a motorcycle road racing track
   35 miles from my house.
   
5. On July 15^th, I am going to a free
   track day at the aforementioned track. I don’t have to buy any new gear, and I don’t have to do anything to my bike except fold back the mirrors. I get two 20 minute lap sessions in the morning, to see how much I love riding on a track.
   

Eat that, sucker.