Gods Want Stuff: Bikers (if you buy) Welcome

Orange cones sprouting from the asphalt known as US highway 1 anticipate a need. Strands of beer flags - dispensed by mammoth distilleries - vine every tavern that participates like kudzu. Thus begins the fall bacchanal Daytona PR has christened Biketoberfest. If one Bike Week produces grandiose funds for locals, two Bike Weeks have got to be twice as lucrative, right? In this case the two-is-better-than-one theory works. I hear you all saying "Then why don't you just have Bike Year?" I am sure it has been thought of.

For a future Blip, I will endeavor to get a snap of the fabled I-Wanna-Get-Weighed cap. It is a cap to which a scale has been affixed - a critical appliance in a bar game during the week. Sadly, I have never seen this instrument of much pleasure and levity. But I am told that eventually, after enough moral lubrication, placed on the scale are the breasts of an adventurous lady (because she SAID she was!). The wearer attempts to guess who the buxom (or not) female is standing behind him simply by viewing the weight on the scale. The prize for a right guess is - ahhhh - well, whatever you can get. In gay biker bars there is a variant of this game. It is always good to get weighed during Biketoberfest.