It's not hard to reason this one but you migh...
You've all seen them; late at night, you hear the roar in the distance, followed by a symphony of tyre squeals as pedestrians and other traffic compensate for their boneheadedness. Four, five, no, six young wannabes on bikes zip past, living some sort of deranged Hell's Angels fantasy.
You've just seen a pack of crotch-rocket riding morons. How did they get there, you ask? Well, it started off innocently enough. They saw a Dhoni motorcycle ad on TV or heard about John Abraham's recent Hayabusa purchase, bought a bike, and it was all downhill from there. Get ready to piss off a lot of people as we get you in on all you need to know to be a crotch rocket rider.
You need a bike, of course. Not just any bike. And definitely not a reasonably-powered, well-designed get-me-from-A-to-B bike. You need the loudest, most overpowered piece of engineering there is. And the blingier the better. The dream for any crotch rocket rider is a Suzuki Hayabusa or a Kawasaki Ninja. But those require serious cash, so they're likely to settle for the next best thing.
TRICK IT OUT
Silencers are evil, and are meant to be ripped out and cast away. Anything that makes your bike louder is better. Ditto for anything that draws more attention to it--decals, LEDs, the mind boggles at the possibilities. If it gives you a headache, you want it on there.
Now that your bike is sorted, you need to focus on yourself. A helmet and motorcycle jacket are the norm, but the design is where you get to really express yourself. A skull lets you know the world you mean business, while a naked woman helps compensate for the lack thereof in your life. A visit to the barbershop is also on the cards, if only to get the latest Dhoni/Abraham haircut. Some piercings will help enhance your stature as a tough guy, and tattoos will show your crew that you're the real deal.
FIND A PACK
No true crotch-rocket rider ever rides alone. You'll have to find a bunch of like-minded fellows. Remember, a big part of the lifestyle is hanging out and comparing sizes. Of bikes and such. Each pack has a leader, who's usually a goon of some short. If he's flunked out of college, bonus points.
RIDE STRONG AND LOUD
Now that you're ready, it's time to announce your arrival. Ride past hospitals, nursing homes and residential neighborhoods without a care--you're above the law, aren't you? Harassing single women is part of the initiation process, and every family you leave un-terrorized is a missed opportunity. Come on, you guys are the kings of the road--it's time to lay claim to the kingdom!
Seriously though, crotch-rocket riders are the bane of our existence, and we'd love for a pack to run right into a likeminded cop or two and get a taste of some lathi justice. If a friend displays any of the above signs, run--because he's about to turn into a crotch rocket rider!
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