A short story I wrote a couple years ago, thought maybe some of you might enjoy. Keep in mind if you do, it most likely means you aint all there.
"Farkle" A motorcycle term, similar to "Bling" or to add a touch of class, no purpose, just farkle, or to farkleize. Who knew any harm could come from it?
This doesn't really have anything to do with bikes,Other than how we add farkles just to feed our pride and the unknown pain they might cause us.
Last year I remodeled my bathroom. I live in a small house,900 sq ft.One bath. Not much room to farkle, What harm could a little do?Ah but hindsight is always 20/20,if I only would have known.
I made my own cabinets, not to farkle, but to save a few bucks. Used leftover granite for the countertop for same reason. Saved the existing floor. New tub/shower. New toilet. So far all seems harmless and reasonable right? Who could have forseen what might be in my future. I spent a few bucks more on a toilet seat. Not from Sargent or Rick Mayer mind you, Home Depot. It is a slow close lid. Means you cant slam it. The hinges have a clutch on them that allows it to slowly close. No real reason. No practical use really. Just a "cool" factor. Farkle. What possible harm could such a seemingly innocent item impart on me?
But harm and shame were soon to be my companions.
It started like so many days, work, lunch at the local greasy spoon. You know the one with the rude waitress and extra grease on the french frys? More work, then home.
I live 4 miles outside of town. Short drive.
Unless. Yes, unless. Unless the greasy french frys are having a drag race to your colon. At which point an Iron Butt ride would seem short. After a teeth clenching drive home, fumbling with the key and a run thru a thankfully small house, I had thought my worries were over.
I will try to describe the next set of events as pleasantly as I can. Seems I left my new farkle encrusted shitter seat up. No problem, a quick flip and the lid is down.
Sort of.
You see in my frantic pace to take the checker flag at the drag race with the french frys I had already had my jeans part way down.
To save time. Time the lid thought was it's own. When trying to sit the lid had only made it to a 45 degree angle. Now you engineer types and military/artillery sorts have already deduced that the angle for launching a 160lb human 4 feet into a bathtub is,,, yes, 45 degrees.
It is at this point I would like to congratulate myself on my choice of Wilsonart "E-Z clean" laminate flooring.
I will spare you all the gorey details and just ask you to be careful of adding farkles to anything you work on. In "hind" sight I should have seen this coming
"Farkle" A motorcycle term, similar to "Bling" or to add a touch of class, no purpose, just farkle, or to farkleize. Who knew any harm could come from it?
This doesn't really have anything to do with bikes,Other than how we add farkles just to feed our pride and the unknown pain they might cause us.
Last year I remodeled my bathroom. I live in a small house,900 sq ft.One bath. Not much room to farkle, What harm could a little do?Ah but hindsight is always 20/20,if I only would have known.
I made my own cabinets, not to farkle, but to save a few bucks. Used leftover granite for the countertop for same reason. Saved the existing floor. New tub/shower. New toilet. So far all seems harmless and reasonable right? Who could have forseen what might be in my future. I spent a few bucks more on a toilet seat. Not from Sargent or Rick Mayer mind you, Home Depot. It is a slow close lid. Means you cant slam it. The hinges have a clutch on them that allows it to slowly close. No real reason. No practical use really. Just a "cool" factor. Farkle. What possible harm could such a seemingly innocent item impart on me?
But harm and shame were soon to be my companions.
It started like so many days, work, lunch at the local greasy spoon. You know the one with the rude waitress and extra grease on the french frys? More work, then home.
I live 4 miles outside of town. Short drive.
Unless. Yes, unless. Unless the greasy french frys are having a drag race to your colon. At which point an Iron Butt ride would seem short. After a teeth clenching drive home, fumbling with the key and a run thru a thankfully small house, I had thought my worries were over.
I will try to describe the next set of events as pleasantly as I can. Seems I left my new farkle encrusted shitter seat up. No problem, a quick flip and the lid is down.
Sort of.
You see in my frantic pace to take the checker flag at the drag race with the french frys I had already had my jeans part way down.
To save time. Time the lid thought was it's own. When trying to sit the lid had only made it to a 45 degree angle. Now you engineer types and military/artillery sorts have already deduced that the angle for launching a 160lb human 4 feet into a bathtub is,,, yes, 45 degrees.
It is at this point I would like to congratulate myself on my choice of Wilsonart "E-Z clean" laminate flooring.
I will spare you all the gorey details and just ask you to be careful of adding farkles to anything you work on. In "hind" sight I should have seen this coming
hmy::thumbdown::doah::2guns::glare::helpsmilie::huh::smile: