Sometimes, this Pipeburn thing really sucks. A new post every 48 hours. Every 48 hours. It’s truly never ending – like the mail. Screw going postal, sometimes we feel like we’re going Pipe-al. Or is that Papal? Whatever the case, it’s all too easy to view the constant search for new bikes as a chore rather than a pleasure. After all, we’ve got lives that are already full-to-overflowing. You just want a quiet Sunday night in front of the box, but instead you have to churn out another article for the hungry biking masses. Like me, tonight. After serious considerations about out-sourcing the whole dog and pony show to India I begin to trawl through the bowels of my inbox. Woah. Here’s some emails and an interview from Paul d’Orélans. Christ on a trike! I’d totally forgotten. Shoot – he’s going to be pissed we left it so long. Four months! Oh the bitter, burning guilt of the slack-ass-ed. I read through it. He’s a really good writer. This stuff is great. And just look at the bikes he’s owned. Damn – we’re so blessed to have guys like this on the blog. You know, sometimes this Pipeburn thing really rocks.
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Ever thought about buying a vintage bike. Of course you have! You know you want to. Hell, who doesn’t? In my perfect world (or mind), a character test, job interview, police interrogation, or court hearing would all involve the same simple question – “do you now, have you ever, or will you at some point in the future own a vintage motorcycle?” “Yes,” you say? Well, you’ve got the job/passed the test/are a free man despite the seemingly insurmountable evidence involving the hookers, jumping castle, and those fluorescent rubber clown masks.
But let’s cut to the chase. You’re afraid to own one, aren’t you? AFRAID! Like a big baby, you are! Oh look at you with your cool 80s motorbike and your iPhone and your streaming movies on demand! You are soft, is what you are. Spoilt by too many modern conveniences. What you need is to get back to you roots – to get your hands dirty and to connect, really connect, with what it means to be alive and free. Paul d’Orléans knows exactly what it’s like to be a real man. Hell, he’s got more man in his little finger than most of you have in your entire, pudgy, mobility-scooter-bound bodies. He’s not afraid; he’s got a ton of them. Hundreds! So us big babies here at Pipeburn decided to ask Paul how we could man-the-hell-up and get ourselves a vintage bike without all the pain, breakdowns and wasted time. God, we’re soft.
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