When I was growing up there was a hells angel a few doors up from me. I was mates with his son, who he called Damien. Amazing.
Anyway each winter he'd take his motorcycle apart in their front room and over the spring he'd put it back together. In the first weeks of summer you'd occasionally hear him fire it up in their living room, while I was on the way home from school. I thought this was totally normal. My dad even tried to convince my mum to let him do it - which never worked.
In any event, he let me into my first rock bar, and ended up in prison for killing a dude (unrelated). So I think what I'm saying is: that's not a bad idea. Let's do this thing.
When I was growing up there was a hells angel a few doors up from me. I was mates with his son, who he called Damien. Amazing.
Anyway each winter he'd take his motorcycle apart in their front room and over the spring he'd put it back together. In the first weeks of summer you'd occasionally hear him fire it up in their living room, while I was on the way home from school. I thought this was totally normal. My dad even tried to convince my mum to let him do it - which never worked.
In any event, he let me into my first rock bar, and ended up in prison for killing a dude (unrelated). So I think what I'm saying is: that's not a bad idea. Let's do this thing.