Dual Purpose, Dual Personalities Sporting Duality With Motorcycle Therapy & Entertainment


Platypus Piss

20120815-110831.jpg Young Harris Playground and Gazebo right in front of City Hall. Kimmie Lou, “this place is kinda spooky….let’s go checkout Young Harris College around the corner.”

Howdy Myst,                 (Edited Version Available 2020)

Our precision strike back into Georgia has landed us here – Young Harris, Towns County….likely lair of Harry the Albino Skunk. We have barely begun looking around when – out from behind the Gazebo goose-steps this Canada Goose “you are here for Stinkless eh?” At first we mistake his thick French Canadian accent for a couple of warbling honks…then it hits us – he must be talking about Harry. “Actually, she smelled like peaches” says Kimmie Lou. “She bathes in peach juice…it embarrasses her to have absolutely no smell of her own,” then he adds, “come back at midnight – the tennis courts.” Before we have a chance to ask him anything else he flies away, knocking over a toddler by the swing set on takeoff.

It’s about 4pm and we contemplate heading back to Chatuge but Kimmie Lou insists we hang around and do some reconnaissance before the midnight rendezvous. We decide to snoop around in City Hall, Kimmie Lou insists the College holds some key piece of the puzzle, it is agreed we will check it out next.

20120815-115002.jpg Young Harris City Hall (notice the solar communication “panels” cleverly disguised as energy collection devices).

Inside City Hall we encounter Wanda, another one of these Stunning Southern Women. She graciously answers our questions about the area then becomes vague when we mention the tennis courts behind city hall. Ridicu recognizes her evasive tactics “excuse me miss but I can’t help noticing a striking resemblance between you and a model in the last Victoria’s Secret lingerie layout….was that you in the Peach Teddy?” “OH HO HO NOooo,” she laughs/coos in that way only southern women can – then leans towards us conspiratorially “but I can tell you that there are an additional 10 subterranean courts that are so top secret that the Secret Service holds a couple of tournaments a year here.” We calmly say “that so?” “Yes,” she says, ” they play in Squirrel or Bunny costumes….even Skunk outfits some time.” “SKUNK” we blurt out…then Ridicu recovers by saying “we heard it was just Tutus and Tinker-bell costume tennis.” “During the summer months yes, but in the cooler months they are all sporting fur….the President showed up this one time done up as Barney and they all took turns walloping the shit outta him.” We all giggle over that one…she giggles and jiggles so seductively that I have to get Ridicu away quickly, “it’s been sure nice talkin to ya, see you later!”

We wander around out back of City Hall to the Tennis Courts…they do seem sorta sneaky.

20120815-134510.jpg Kimmie Lou ” so if there are ten courts underground then that makes this center court 17 7/8….look, it has no number !”

Our scouting so far has told us a lot, it’s time to head up to this College of Mountain Lions. We must have that “lost tourist look” on our faces as another Stunning Southern Woman stops and asks if we need directions. She isn’t wearing an earpiece but Ridicu can see she’s Secret Service by the look in her eyes “can you keep a secret? We’re scouting the next shoot for Victoria’s Secret” “Well you will likely want a look at Cupid’s Falls then” and she gives us directions. We thank her and walk back to Kimmie Lou – casually parked at the College gate. “No way are we going to the falls – by now the place is probably crawling with snipers !”

20120815-140144.jpg Kimmie Lou, “now that you mention it, we do seem to be attracting a lot of attention…it’s funny how nice spies can be.”

Finally I gave up trying to convince Kimmie Lou and Ridicu that everyone was just being nice. “Everyone has been really nice along the trip so far, but there is something sinister about this place.” They both urged me to stay in a public place until midnight, they were afraid to go back to Chatuge, “probably a team of SEALS submerged just off the beach – waitin fer us!” Ridicu and Kimmie Lou were beginning to say stuff with southern accents – it was kinda cute, except when they got paranoid.

It was decided that we would hang out at Ingle’s till 10pm then ride around until the meet at midnight. RidicuRyder is on a budget and we see nothing wrong with getting a coffee then soaking up the WiFi for hours and hours. We carry around a stainless water bottle and some concentrated Lemon juice. Now, folks might say we are drinking Lemon Water but we prefer to call it Platypus Piss….it just sounds cooler. We can’t remember how many times we filled the water bottle…maybe it was nerves causing us to chain drink like that, there is this thing called Water Intoxication and it’s the only explanation we have for what happened at Midnight.




“Just another day at the office” moans Kimmie Lou. Locust Grove High School Cheerleaders – second place in three regional competitions last year. Squad coach Madame P says “we are in sleeper-mode…..our sights are set on gold at the 2014 World Cheer Championships in Tuktoyaktuk.”

Howdy Myst,                 (Edited Version Available 2020)

We wake up the next morning, mostly back to our usual, unusual selves. Gluttony challenges our waistline, but does wonders in stabilizing the old slippery psyche. Our day’s Moto-Photo-Journalistic agenda seems daunting…..Kimmie Lou is still quite bloated from all the sodium and the local convenience store clerk suggests a Lake shoot complete with directions right out of a Stephen King novel.

“It sounds like the lake might be a ways out of town.” Kimmie Lou complains “I want picture in groovy Locust Grove.” We are approaching a treed corner that might work, “let’s ask these youngsters if the lake is in town.” “No sir, the lake is over by Jackson” says a polite Cheerleader, “does your bike need a wash?” A brilliant plan is taking shape, “no, but perhaps we could contribute to your fundraising and a few of you could pose with our bike for a picture.” Ridicu packed full of chow sounds almost normal. “Sure, if it’s okay with Madame P” the young lady turns her head and nods towards a canopy where two dazzling beauties sit untouched by the sun.

We park across the side street and walk slowly towards the canopy and these two radiant educators, “were teachers this attractive when we went to high school?” A few steps closer “no, just try to stay cool.” [The reader is spared our awkward, high-hormonal-pitched ramblings and pimply-faced contortions as we fail miserably at being anywhere near cool with these Stunning Southern Women]. Another car gets washed, then it’s our turn, the girls come over and gather around Kimmie Lou, Ridicu quietly repeating “get the teachers in the shot, get the teachers in the shot…..ask them to come over, ask them to come over!”

“Hey Morons, take the picture”….”ya Morons, take picture” says Kimmie Lou. Then it registers – one of these smiling teenagers has telepathic communications capabilities! Then, together as a ultra-low frequency cheer – “WE ALL DO, MORONS !” Kimmie Lou laughing, “bring home da gold girls!”