Suicidal Ideations #12 and 35

Me?  I like a beater.

I refer, of course, to this ...

Look at the black tape on the exhaust, torn up in one spot from where, one can assume, it was put on the floor.

And which, despite being dressed completely in black, with not a hint of the words Harley-Davidson, is one.  A Harley.  Reminds me of the hero of Saigon: Too Big Too Fail -- Captain J.E.B. Stuart III -- who, although he works for the Security and Exchange Commission, wears black utilities, no dog-tags, and carries a big fucking gun.

The Harley, just so we're clear, is in this situation its own gun.

[Happiness, it has been noted by better men than me, is a warm gun]

I love that the only thing written on this motorcycle are the words Mama Tried.  Both sides.

That made me smile.

Here's the full thing:

She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do, oh, yeah

She's well acquainted
With the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the
Multicolored mirrors on his hobnail boots

Lying with his eyes
While his hands are busy working overtime
A soap impression of his wife
Which he ate and donated to the National Trust

I need a fix cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause I'm going down

Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun

Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang bang, shoot shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun mama
(Bang bang, shoot shoot)
When I hold you in my arms
(Oh yeah)
And I feel my finger on your trigger
(Ooo, oh yeah)
I know nobody can do me no harm
(Ooo, oh yeah)

Because happiness is a warm gun mama
(Bang bang, shoot shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is
(Bang bang, shoot shoot)
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun
(Happiness, bang bang, shoot shoot)
Well, don't you know that happiness is a warm gun mama
(Happiness is a warm gun yeah)

Which reminds me, for reasons not entirely clear, of that line from Hallelujah by one of those Buckley boys that goes ...

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.

Which is pretty fucking strong.  Also, upon reflection, probably written by Leonard Cohen, since he writes all the stuff that goes like that.  Then sung by one of those Buckley boys.  Likewise Brandi Carlisle, who, when she does it in concert, will rip your heart out.