Elvis: Bikes are good for another 11,000 miles, minus oil changes, of course. I smell like fuel. Why do they make it, so half the bike needs to be ripped apart to get to a serviceable part?
Last night 'twas witching Hallowe'en
Dearest; an apple russet- brown
I pared, and thrice above my crown
Whirled the long skin; they watched in keen;
I flung it far; they laughed and cried me shame
Dearest, there lay the letter of your name!