Bat-shit crazy out of hell.

Many of you will already know these lyrics but just in case … go on, treat yourself.

How did I start laughing again? Well, at myself, of course. These words were spinning around my damaged head in the early hours and I began to giggle. “Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike” was always the way I imagined myself leaving this earth. What I hadn’t budgeted for was being a ham-fisted eejit who can’t get anything right and I even managed to make my glorious”biker’s demise” rather less than wonderful.

Far from seeing “my heart still beating and flying away..” I now can hardly walk or speak properly and that is so un-cool as rock-and-roll looks go.

I suppose it comes of having got to the age where “ride hard, die young” no longer applies, so I had to “ride considerately, mash yourself up a bit at nearly 60.”

By this time I was squirming around under my two duvets, chuckling fit to burst. It is also the first time I’ve been able to think about the accident other than factually reporting it. Like a nasty scab I couldn’t touch it for fear of it opening again.

I was a biker babe. Then I was a Hell’s Granny. Now I’m a Knit-witch.


5 thoughts on “Bat-shit crazy out of hell.

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