What's your biggest fear?

When i have bad dreams, they are about the track. Like, my bike won't shift gears, or i only have 1st gear, or they are making 3rd call and im not even in my suit yet, etc.

The motor issues i had with the 675 this year affected my dreams. I often had dreams of chasing somebody and seeing them pull away and/or getting passed over and over and over, or feeling like im only going 25mph everywhere.

I know there are way too many jokes to be made with those comments and i know a select few who will have to take advantage of them . But im being for real, the struggles i had with the bike gave me bad dreams all year, even when i was at work.

 

If your "bad" dreams are about races that don't go your way, you've never had a bad dream. You're just a sheltered pup.

 

The bad thing is she looks calm compared to some of em I'm talking about...

 

Or this...

 

Chaotic - I've got some connections with EAP counselors. While I'm fairly beyond positive it's going to take more than 3 sessions to even begin to drill down to just finding the amount of problems you have to be fixed, I can still try to put you in touch. :wow:

 

I saw that today on youtube... that SUCKS. I hate to laugh because it would really suck to be that dude... but

 

Buck, your fear of squirrels is legit. You guys may have seen this story before but it's as funny as hell.


Evil Mutant Attack Squirrel of Death
I never dreamed that slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I suspect....
I was on Brice Street- a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it- it was that close.
I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers never fear- squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves! Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leaped! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, “ BANZAI!” or maybe, “Die, you gravy-sucking heathen scum!” The leap was nothing short of spectacular...
He shot straight up, flew over my windshield and impacted me squarely on the chest. Instantly, the set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he had brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in alight t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing... I grabbed at him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off to the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristine kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. But, this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel.
This was an EVIL MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH!!
Somehow, he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and, with the force of the throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and considerable impact landed squarely on my back. There he resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him! The situation had not improved. Not improved at all.
His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result: TORQUE. This is what the Valkyrie is made form and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.
The squirrel screamed in anger.
The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy.
I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on an huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn t-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel, with a demonic squirrel of death on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder. With the sudden acceleration, I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars to try to get control of the bike.
This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody’s tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... My brain was simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect gainst the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he was an evil mutant NAZI attack squirrel of death) and he came around my neck and got INSIDE my full-face helmet with me.
As the faceplate closed part way, he began hissing in my face. I am quite sure my screaming changed in intensity. It had little effect on the squirrel, however. The RPM’s on the Valkyrie maxed out since I was not bothering with shifting at the moment, so her front wheel began to drop.
Now, picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged worn t-shirt, one leather glove, roaring at probably 80 mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel’s tail sticking out of a mostly closed full-face helmet. By now, the screams are probably getting a little hoarse..
Finally I got the upper hand- I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked- sort of. Spectacularly sort-of.. So to speak.
Picture a new scene: You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing only one leather glove, moving at probably 80 mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by, and with all his strength, throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams.
They weren’t mine.
I managed to get the big motorcycle under control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at a stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to ‘fess up, and to get my glove back. I really would have. Really... Except for two things. First, the cops didn’t seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. When I looked back, the doors on both sides of the patrol car were flung wide open. The cop from the passenger side was on his back, doing a crab walk into somebody’s front yard, quickly moving away from the car. The cop who had been driving was standing in the street aiming a riot shotgun at his own police car. So, the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to “Let the professionals handle it” anyway.
That was one thing.
The other?
Well, I could clearly see shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery from the back seat. But I could also swear I saw the squirrel in the back window, shaking his little fist at me.
That is one dangerous squirrel.
And now he has a patrol car.
A somewhat shredded patrol car, but it was all his.
I took a deep breath, switched on my turn signal, and made a gentle right turn off of Brice Street, and sedately left the neighborhood. I decided it was best just to buy myself a new pair of gloves. And a box of band-aids.
Author unknown

 

Damn that's cold....felt terrible for the dude.

he'll have a phobia about "poppin' the question" fer sure now !!

 

....and here is one for you too

 

LOL, first time I was put under for a medical procedure was when I was 22. One of my best friend's mom was a nurse on the recovery team. When I started waking up she leaned over me and put a paper bag over my mouth and told me to breath into it several times. I don't remember it but later I learned that I commented as to how frigging beautiful her tits were. (and they really were. Would I lie about something as serious as that?)

 

Spiders.

Even a tiny one turns me into a little screaming girl.

Pretty much anything else I can deal with.

 

My buddy will say something dumb sometimes and his wife's eyelids will literally start twitching, and he'll go there's that look I told you about.

Funny as can be.

 

Thats sucks, but if the dude didn't spin it into taking an available hottie home from the game, he sucks as well.

 

Exactly this.

Lots of folks said heights... that doesn't bother me so much, but it does make me break out into cold sweat and I get a mad rush of adrenalin ...like walking up to the edge of Half Dome and peering over the edge... which I've done. Good times.

 

Weird......I've had this happen to me several times, always while away at a trackday event. In mine, didn't matter if I rode well or not, I'd keep having this recurring nightmare of me having a low side in one of the faster sections of whatever track I was at. It'd wake my ass up every time too, wondering if it was a sign....


On a side note, keep the stories coming, you guys are cracking me the hell up with some of them.

Regarding kiddie rides, the coaster story reminded me of one incident that I'll never repeat nor put my kids on. Down in Wildwood Crest (SNJ) they have one of those simple chairlift rides that go to the end of the pier then back to the boardwalk, we had a few more tickets to burn up and the kids couldn't agree on the same ride so my wife says why don't y'all just go on that and we'll call it a night. Of course by y'all she meant me and my two kids, not even thinking twice about it I said sure. Up the ramp we go, the chair swings in from behind, we sit, the bar comes down barely touching my legs and we're off. No biggy.......So I thought. Just before the turn around point we hit the peak height which is actually taller than the adult coaster on that pier. My kids (5 & 7) are having a blast looking all over the place practically hanging over the drop down bar when I up and realize shit we are pretty damn high and we aren't strapped in.....at all. Suddenly, I decide to nonchalantly put an arm around each child, pull them tight into me.......wouldn't ya know it, I felt every single millimeter of movement in that damn chair from that moment on and all I can think to myself is my GOD, this shit ain't safe at all for adults let alone small children. It was the longest ride back I've ever had on a ride. Never again.

 

Weird thing is, I have never had a dream about crashing, not one. In my bad dreams, my bike won't go fast or im not ready for a race or something along those lines.

It is likely due to that fact that I have absolutely zero fear of crashing, none. I am more "scared" of riding like shit, having a mechanical failure or my bike being slow than I am of crashing.

 

Oh man, the girl I'm seeing right now, I've seen a look in here eyes that just screams "I literally want to kill you right now!" Real Charlie Manson type shit. It's freaking creepy...

 

Then why did you say "seeing"...as in present tense?

 

In my younger years, I was on the pier at OC MD and got on the Pirate...ride that looks like a ship and swings back and forth. Was in the back row. When it was at the peak of one of the backward swings, the bar came loose. I held onto the bar, came completely out of my seat. As the ride starts swinging back the other way, it slammed me down into the seat. I was too young to be scared...I just thought 'that was cool'. I got back on hoping it would happen again, but, no such luck.
To this day, I still have no issues with roller coasters of any size, speed, or configuration, just can't bring myself to let go of the bar.