AFTER THE hustle and bustle of Biketoberfest it was time to knock down a cog and head to Orlando. As it was Halloween we stopped off at one of the Halloween megastores and bought some scary shit to wear, then Big Ballz and I headed to Universal Studios to do Halloween Horror Nights. This is where the Yanks stands in line for hours each night to have the shit scared out of them in piss weak horror houses. We decide to drink at every beer tent and shooter hut, so we had an awesome night and frightened a few of the locals.
From Orlando we zipped down to Cocoa Beach to see the Shuttle launch and I attended the Florida HOG Rally where I took out the award for the ‘furthest to travel to the rally’, which was a nice plaque.
Riding around ‘I Dream of Jeanie’ country was great fun and the locals were really biker friendly.
The Yanks are probably the most anal race on the face of the earth. Big Ballz and I are both basketball referees so we thought it would be great to go see a game in the USA. We arrived to a quarter-full stadium, kicked back with a few beers and abused the referees like everyone else. However, with 10,000 spare seats, the goobers beside us were annoyed that we were in their seats and bitched and moaned until they got enough guts to ask us to move. So we moved two seats to the left. We could have moved 100 but they had seat numbers!
From Orlando we rode south to Key West to have a look at Fantasy Fest, a wild party like Mardi Gras.
I love the USA accents on women and I have a few gals that I have been liaising with for some time. One of them, Sandie, told me six months ago she was dating someone else, so I never followed her up when we were Daytona and she never followed me up, making life less complicated. 100 miles out of Key West, Big Ballz and I stopped for fuel, a feed and to fill with caffeine. We walked into the truck-stop and I heard “Roo!” It was Sandie! In all the gin joints in the entire world she had to pick this one. She introduced me to her boyfriend, and then told me in confidence, their relationship was over but he was going to Fantasy Fest with him because he had a bike trailer.
Big Ballz and I arrived in Key West and the place was alive—the streets were full of people in costumes, women wearing nothing but body-paint—it was party time!
A normal night’s accommodation was $80 but the bastards wanted $300 a night for a shit hole; we went five miles out of town and paid $170 a night for a hovel but we were in party town.
As we walked down the main street I spotted an Aussie slouch hat, yes it was Sandie! There were only 100,000 people here. We had a drink and a few laughs, then she went off with her friends and Big Ballz and I got slaughtered.
The following day we rode around Key West, did the sights, went jet skiing, then had an afternoon nap.
By 1 pm we had consumed two bottles of our duty-free Bundy, I had been approached by police who threatened to arrest me because I threw a cup of ice cubes in the air and it landed on a cop—in a town where half the dudes had their cocks painted as dragons!
We wandered down Duval Street where Big Ballz had his arse pinched. We now realised we were in fags-ville and the gals were actually guys. I didn’t know Big Ballz could run so fast with his arse cheeks held so tightly together.
Full of bravado and booze, Big Ballz and I decided to get body-painted. We stood beside two naked birds and watched them have their tits painted before we became human canvasses to represent our glorious country. Big Ballz had an Aussie flag on his back and a six-pack on his front; I had my guts painted as a Fosters keg.
The monsoon rains opened and we moved inside with another 100 or so drunken half-naked people—it was a blast!
We chatted with a few naked gals as we drank and told them all about Australia. I think they had faces but my eyes never got that high. If I ever bump into any of them again I apologise in advance because I won’t recognise you, unless you have your cans out and pussy painted.
The little naked thing beside Big Ballz befriended us and took us to a hat shop. I ended up with a full metal Viking helmet and Big Ballz a knight’s chain mail. It only cost us $300! Still, we did win Best Costume and had heaps of pics taken.
Later that night I rode home a bit socially confused in shorts, painted guts and a Viking helmet on the Road Glide through a police barricade to the hovel where we were staying and where Big Ballz was entertaining his painted friend…
Make sure you check out Roo’s Mis-Adventure Part 6.