Hi guys,
On the subject of "God rides a Norton" here is a copy of the poem/story I was seeking. I finally got hold of the author of the original document. He didn't have a copy himself but was able to point me in the direction of someone who did have one. It's quite amusing and for those who don't know the Kingswood was/is an iconic Australian motor car (a shit box if you ask me). Enjoy
Andy
THE EVOLUTION OF THE MOTORCYCLE
by Geoff Seddon
("The Evolution of the Motorcycle" is reproduced from Ozbike Thunder Down Under, an Australian lifestyle magazine.)
On the first day, God created the Heavens, the Earth, and the Wisemans Ferry Road. But He wasn't too happy, His Kingswood would sway on the corners, crawl up the hills, and use heaps of juice.
On the second day, God took a new tack, and created the step through. He enjoyed the wind in His hair (He hadn't created helmets then), it was fun, and used bugger-all petrol, but it still crawled up the hills.
On the third day, God created the Honda Four, and it flew up the hills. With four into ones, it sounded better, it never broke down, but the corners remained a problem. Yet He had tasted power, and craved for more.
Thus, on the fourth day, He added two more cylinders to His Honda, and created adrenaline. His insurance premiums doubled, and it cost a fortune to get the tappets done. He also created fear (His hair turned white), and the cliché "enough is enough".
On the fifth day, God blew a couple of joints, had rap with Willie G., and created the Harley Davidson. He would cruise up and down the hills in top gear, and pick up heaps of babes. He would get off on the note. But the Hog was too heavy, broke down a lot and handled like the Kingswood.
Then, on the sixth day, He made the Bonneville. He would still pick up babes outside Wisemans Pub, and it sounded good. His bike was light, and for the first time, the corners were fun. It handled! God was stoked. But the vibration gave Him a pain in the arse, His kidneys were history, it was a touch gutless and He ran out of juice every 100 miles. He wasn't happy, but shit, He was close.
So finally, on the seventh day, God produced a motorcycle with the speed of a Honda, the torque of a Harley and the handling of a Triumph. He could afford the petrol, tune it Himself, pick up chicks and still blow off Ducatis through the corners. He called His bike Norton, and He was happy.
On the subject of "God rides a Norton" here is a copy of the poem/story I was seeking. I finally got hold of the author of the original document. He didn't have a copy himself but was able to point me in the direction of someone who did have one. It's quite amusing and for those who don't know the Kingswood was/is an iconic Australian motor car (a shit box if you ask me). Enjoy
Andy
THE EVOLUTION OF THE MOTORCYCLE
by Geoff Seddon
("The Evolution of the Motorcycle" is reproduced from Ozbike Thunder Down Under, an Australian lifestyle magazine.)
On the first day, God created the Heavens, the Earth, and the Wisemans Ferry Road. But He wasn't too happy, His Kingswood would sway on the corners, crawl up the hills, and use heaps of juice.
On the second day, God took a new tack, and created the step through. He enjoyed the wind in His hair (He hadn't created helmets then), it was fun, and used bugger-all petrol, but it still crawled up the hills.
On the third day, God created the Honda Four, and it flew up the hills. With four into ones, it sounded better, it never broke down, but the corners remained a problem. Yet He had tasted power, and craved for more.
Thus, on the fourth day, He added two more cylinders to His Honda, and created adrenaline. His insurance premiums doubled, and it cost a fortune to get the tappets done. He also created fear (His hair turned white), and the cliché "enough is enough".
On the fifth day, God blew a couple of joints, had rap with Willie G., and created the Harley Davidson. He would cruise up and down the hills in top gear, and pick up heaps of babes. He would get off on the note. But the Hog was too heavy, broke down a lot and handled like the Kingswood.
Then, on the sixth day, He made the Bonneville. He would still pick up babes outside Wisemans Pub, and it sounded good. His bike was light, and for the first time, the corners were fun. It handled! God was stoked. But the vibration gave Him a pain in the arse, His kidneys were history, it was a touch gutless and He ran out of juice every 100 miles. He wasn't happy, but shit, He was close.
So finally, on the seventh day, God produced a motorcycle with the speed of a Honda, the torque of a Harley and the handling of a Triumph. He could afford the petrol, tune it Himself, pick up chicks and still blow off Ducatis through the corners. He called His bike Norton, and He was happy.
)
