The CB550 re-build continues - Love & Pain
Went to Barrie this past week. The goal was to get some visiting in, get some taxes done with the mama bear, because bears are really good at doing taxes. Ruthless.
I also wanted to attack the CB550 at Kent's garage.
I showed up on Monday, and the poor thing looked like it was starved, like someone was dangling a hot chick it front of it, "...she'll ride you if only you lost some weight..."
So I grazed my fingertips along his spine, assuring him, it'll hurt at first, but it's for the greater good. Love is painful sometimes, but always worth it. When something, someone, makes you sweat, it's impossible to forget about it, impossible to give up on it. That's how I feel about my shit CB550. And a few other....things.
He'll look like scruffy, rebellious motorcycle. Can't find a man like that, so the CB550 is a suitable replacement.
Kent did all the hard shit, welding and bending pipe. I stuck my head over a Varsol bath, and scrubbed carb parts. I could smell the number 3 after that, and may have thought that my pants were made of liquid feathers. Kent assured me that they were not. Regardless, the pants party I was having was delightful.
Look at all those shiny bits! It's possible I even made out with one of them, I was high on fumes, and the glare was hypnotizing. Thank baby meerkats Kent was welding some mounts on the ol' original tank, and didn't witness the fume licking and feather pant petting. You just visualized that, and I'm laughing at you for it.
...The new [old] tank looks fuckin' amazing, though. I bought the CB with an after market sportster tank, but the original one just makes more sense. It's as if someone decided that the Queen of England is a perfect model for the next Victoria Secret catalog. Fuckin' no. ...No. You visualized that too. Fuckers!
Kent also cleaned up the rear end of the CB, capping the chopped frame [that some idiot decided to do] and welding a bar across the back. He also fashioned a small fender off of a Harley. A little piece of Harley on my Honda? ...I guess that's ok. I'll be riding one eventually. Over & over & over again. You imagined that too, you dirty shit.
New bars were in order too, and within 10 minutes, Kent had changed the look of a nerdy CB550 into a shit-head step-child of the CB family. I love shit-heads. My dating history shows that... [Don't get offended, my lovely exes, some of you are fantastic naked people, and I really value our naughty experiences, I mean, I value your personalities.] But, there's nothing wrong with wanting a shit-head around, and this time, I'm the owner, I control the shit-head show.
Whatever, here's the fucking new bars. I'm over this blog post.