Tasmanian: “So, listen up Bastard, these crazy fucking riders I’m passing you along to are off-the-charts-idiotic…but in a fun way. They’ll take a little getting used to, you’ll sorta hate them for a season or two….
Motorcycle Helmets stop being all that protective after awhile. RidicuRyder held onto the Tasmanian for roughly a decade longer than we should have. Strictly speaking, he was always a size too small for us. Scooping away a little Frontal Lobe styrofoam under the Bieffe’s (French Tasmanian) inner liner was a flagrant cheat in the first place, but it got us by. We picked up our new brain-bucket (properly sized XXXL) on sale…bigger Helmets are always spendy!
We couldn’t start using our new NEXX Carbon XR1.R right away though, he could tell when we tried him on in the shop that our skull was under an ancient Tasmanian Spin-Out Charm. We got the new helmet home and let him float around in the pool with our Old Faithful Tasmanian for a few hours before any transitional protection arrangements could be made.
The thing about Bastard is that he’s roughly 50/50 Black and White…Good with a healthy Evil contrast and he just doesn’t seem to give a fuck about what qualities you see in him or feel like attaching to. Almost anything goes with Bastard…except Bullshit (Did we mention he’s very Black and White?). He’s not a big fan of Grey areas and we sensed that about him right away. He was also $400 bucks off retail and fit us better than any other helmet ever had…like ever before, it seemed his lightweight Carbon Fiber outer shell had been molded with our wonky noggin in a parallel universe. We figured the Tasmanian could bring him up to speed on our Irregularities.
“Lemme get this straight,” exhales Bastard, “These two Morons aren’t just split personalities…they’ve somehow managed to wedge the entirety of existence between their ears?”
“Yeah” chuckles the Tasmanian, “That pretty much sums it up…I gotta tell you upfront, keeping this melon from cracking is easy because they’re already so fucking infinite, BUT you will have to put up with a lot of Sloppy Bullshit along the way.” Then after a few seconds, “Their Motorcycle, Kimmie Lou–is aces though–she’s spot on.”
“I noticed Kimmie Lou’s Vibe on the ride home–hanging off their left elbow like that gave me a good look at how she operates, she’s kinda quiet though,” mutters Bastard.
The Tasmanian glances around the pool deck, “She’s pretty selective about who she communicates with for the past couple of years, she used to be quite the chatterbox and she even knows Telepathy.”
Bastard and the Tasmanian float around the pool for another couple of hours. The Bastard hears all about this Goofy Blog called RidicuRyder these Scruffy Fuckers wrote from the summer of 2012…just as the world was ending and their marriage was falling apart. Eventually, Bastard decides he can make an exemption with being so Black and White for these two Maniacs…they just sound so far out, hanging out with this crew will be like taking a Vacation from Reason.
When the Tasmanian hears the NEXX agree to accept the job, “One final thing to consider Bastard.”
Bastard’s visor creaks open a notch, “What’s that?”
The Tasmanian leans back a touch and the float wobbles both Helmets with a quick squeak between them that passes the Spin-Out-Charm from the Old Bieffe into the New NEXX. “When you Vacate Reason they way these Silly Fuckers do there’s no going back….