Since becoming a motorcyclist my coworkers have taken to asking me questions like, "do I enjoy having something so powerful between my legs?" and, "do I wear 'assless' chaps?"

My replies; to the first: "the bike probably feels a bit intimidated, but it will adjust" and to the second: "no".

This past weekend I watched the local rider's group arrive at the dealership where I bought my bike. They gathered, ate doughnuts, polished chrome, and readied for their ride. They asked if I'd be coming along, and I avoided giving a direct answer, since joining them would fundamentally contradict my primary mission of "motorcycling as visceral manifestation of otherwise incompletely expressed misanthropic tendencies."

I have to say, the sheer number of people wearing assless chaps was disquieting. The very 'asslessness' of chaps - their overwhelming emphasis of the wearer's ass - does make you pause to consider the pathology of the wearer. One of them rode in with his twelve-year old son, and sure enough, even the kid wore assless chaps, and seemed comfortable strutting around in them.