Funniest Thing I Ever Saw: Involving a Motorbike, Steve McQueen and LSD!
The old ones are the best, or so they say. Sometimes the old ones are best left in the old days, though. You can never re-tell them with the same originality that they had in real life. It’s as if you’re crucifying them even trying.
That said, however, I’m struggling to think of a storyline for my article and instead of robbing second-hand headlines from the Internet, you’re going to get a real-life event. Here goes…
Cruising the English Countryside
There were ten of us, all male and in our late teens and early twenties. It was a Friday night turned Saturday morning, but being mid-summer it was dark late and light super early. And we were making the most of it. Just a regular lads night out. Smoking ganja, driving, listening to music and cracking jokes. Cruising around the back lanes of North Yorkshire; we followed our instinct, not Google Maps. We’d never even heard of the Internet back then. Yikes. We still thought Sony Walkmans were the shit.
You could say it was part of our weekend routine.
Only this time was different – we’d all dropped an acid. We were giggling like cheetahs and the night wasn’t finished.
Riding Convoy in the Finest Cars Available
With only two cars, I’m not sure if that can be classed as a convoy, but the amount of bodies squashed in sure made up for it. Five of my buddies were in a red Vauxhall Astra coupe. Not the performance variety, just an ordinary 1.3 or 1.6. I honestly can’t remember – it was 1991 after all.
As for myself, well I was crushed into the other car – a red Lada Riva. It did 100 mph. That was when my friend moved the dial on the speedo with his finger – it had no glass – and everyone shouted: “Turbo!” Then slammed their head back on the seat for special effect. It was the joke of the moment and we never wore it out.
Perhaps even funnier due to our new guest – Paranoid Pete – not even realising the nifty hand sweep from our driver – Fingers Wilson. That isn’t his nickname, we just know him as Andy, but looking back, his craftiness was immense. Named retrospectively, just like the car. Retro in every sense.
From a Time Before Ecstasy
Though I had heard about ecstasy at college, I was too lame to catch on what it was. Instead I had to make do with LSD and ganja, the only two drugs available to a small-town youngster like me. Regardless, it was a mint laugh and having already had the real deal – magic mushrooms – many years earlier, it wasn’t a big step up to a paper blotter.
“Double dipped,” they said. “Double trouble,” I thought.
So as you can imagine, we’d been driving about in the middle of the night and having a ball in the process. It was already a classic, but it was about to get better.
(Useless factoid for you, mushrooms are much stronger, but pharmaceutical grade LSD lasts longer. The comedown kicks you in the kidneys like a mule trying to flick dog poo off it’s boots!)
The Lads Spotted a Motorbike
A couple of the lads, in the other car, spotted an old motorbike at a farm. This was like a barn find, but it wasn’t a long lost Lamborghini and nobody thought to get the farmer out of bed. Well it was five-o’clock in the f**king morning.
It wasn’t the right thing to do looking back, but at the time, with mischievous intent, the lads twoc‘d it. Now it was a shady thing to do, in all honesty, but this isn’t a story about morals so please forgive me. The first lad to get it going was Stuart, bless his soul. He died in an accident years later, but will never be forgotten for this night alone.
This being a farmer’s bike, it wasn’t in the best of condition and had been parked up in a barn for years, by the look of the dust wrap that would make Yiannimize proud.
From recall I think it was a Yamaha DT100 or something similar.
Stuart started it up and it screamed like a banshee. At least it works, then, everyone rejoiced. The smoke, however, was terrible. It just ticked over gurgling on charcoal or some other evil cocktail of two-stroke oil and fuel.
If machines could get poorly, this little bad boy was terminally ill.
The Final Chapter – Steve McQueen Style
Stuart was well known for his bike riding skills and being the first man on board he wanted to make an impression. As we all zoomed down the windy country lanes of Chop Gate in the Cleveland Hills, our main man followed the two cars, trying to overtake wherever possible. The smoke only getting worse.
Our car almost snapped in half with the laughter.
The second car was laughing teacakes – it was impossible not to.
Stuart flew round a bend with his blonde hair blowing in the wind, his half-zipped leather jacket puffed open. On full throttle he walloped towards both cars flat out like a mad man. His Yamaha smoking James Bond-style; it was so cloudy we could hardly see the road behind.
Then the magic happened… Stuart caught up to us and someone shouted: “It’s Steve McQueen.”
If only I had a Kodak instant camera. The look on his face was priceless. Our perception blurred with the LSD, it was as if Steve McQueen himself was about to jump off the road and over a fence. All the while the smoke cloud adding to the drama of the noisy exhaust shattering the tranquillity of a hot summer’s morning. Birdsong had been replaced by Birdman. He was absolutely flying.
This was our very own version of The Great Escape. It didn’t have a million-dollar budget, but you couldn’t have made it any funnier if you’d tried.
No doubt, you get the picture!
Five More Gossip Lollies
- Women Love Smelly Men!
- Phony Nave SEAL of the Week
- Boyan Slat The Ocean Cleanup Geek
- Crimebodge – Corrupt Police Failure
- Help Endangered Snow Leopards