I pulled up behind a Harley yesterday and two questions came to mind. Why in the wide world of sports does Hawaii bother to issue handicapped plates for motorcycles? What kind of asshole would apply for a handicapped plate for his bike? I mean, if you can ride a motorcycle you have a lot more going for you than the average handi-capable, don't you think? Plus it's pretty easy to find a place to park a bike anyway. My dad has one leg (actually one and a half) and he doesn't have handicapped plates.
I had the most boring dream ever involving helicopters last night. I've had some pretty good ones, doing flips ala Redbull heli, zipping through the Mall of America in a cute little mini-chopper, but not last night. Last night it was a white board, some colored markers, and a lectern. I taught the aerodynamics of the autorotation. Autos are pretty exciting, especially if you get to do them all the way to the ground. Why didn't my subconscious entertain me with an engine failure that I needed an auto to recover from? At least I could've been standing in front of the class without pants.
If we are our dreams I’m fucked.
3 hours ago