Judging by the Number of Times You've Revved the Engine on Your Crotch-Rocket at this Red Light, I'm Going to Assume you Have a Huge Penis

Vroom, VROOOMMM you bad mutherfucker! The chick in the Ford next to you just slid right out of her seat. I'm harder than a diamond in an ice storm, and I'm not even gay. That jacket is fucking PIMP! How many dragons emerging from the sun can fit on one royal blue leather jacket anyway??? And who needs a helmet when you've got half a bottle of L.A. Looks in your hair? You wouldn't be revving the engine on that neon orange beaver trapper at a stop light and staring at people unless your dick, is, HUGE. What are talking here, 3? 3.5? 4 inches? When you are packing serious heat like that your only recourse is to put $200 down on a new crotch rocket and finance the other $8,800 over 7 years. Its a win-win for everyone: They own your financial independence well into your 40's, meanwhile you're awesome. Its a no-brainer. Those other dip shits are in college preparing for the reality of their careers, like a bunch of suckers. You've got the foresight to sacrifice financial freedom later for rad now.