In my universe, the word "bikers" applies to people who ride motorcycles. Robb and I -- being human powered -- are cyclists.
Last night I dreamt that I bought a purple Italian motorcycle (made by a company known only in my dreams). To buy it, I had to fill out a postcard, which had an order form for every single part on the bike. Each part (left foot pedal, et cetera) was billed separately, which was considered useful if the bike was crashed and a single part needed to be replaced. The bike was delivered to the home where my mother lived when my parents divorced. It was strange to revisit that home in my dreams, because it was surely the most unhappy place I've ever lived.
This morning I read about a group of bikers who are quite close to my heart. They operate an animal rescue organization, and just removed 180 kittens from a foreclosed home, two towns over from Robb's hometown.
How can you not love the contrast of these two faces? They actually have similar markings! The big tough one is being sweet, and the little sweet one is trying so hard to be tough.