OK. There are times as a man when you need to simply put your friends in their place – you know, when the thumbwrestling in the bar suddenly turns deadly serious or when the drinking contest suddenly turn mean and you have to guzzle one more bottle of Medoc.

And sometimes you need to simply fly by someone’s house and drop the GBU-43/B.

So here we go.

Last week, I put up a post about my new bike, a Ducati 1100 Hypermotard.

Jimbo responded at Blackfive, where he foolishly views the Hypermotard as “…the delivery vehicle for the Croissant House.“

Oh, really?

…yeah, you try that on a Harley, Jimbo, and when you get out of the hospital, you can tell both of your friends all about it…

Jimbo may be sober – it’s unlikely – but even so, he’s displaying a fundamental misapprehension common to enlisted men. That is simply this. Which is a scarier weapon?

or

Which one would you rather fly against?

or

Yes, the primitive weapon looks scarier and more imposing, and there is a certain – delicacy – found in modern weapon design. And it’s understandable how the … less-developed … mind might find the primitive weapons far scarier and more imposing.

But they’d be wrong.

In Jimbo’s comments, Grim asks “Does he also wear one of those fancy red leather jumpsuits when he’s riding that thing?“

Why yes, I do…mine’s yellow and blue, though…

On the other hand, here I have spy photos of Jim in the parking lot at Camp Mackall, learning to ride a motorcycle…

…note the stylish Village People getups they are all wearing…

Look, it’s a simple thing. Here’s Jim:

Here’s me:

One is living in a cave, picking nits and hitting things with his club, and one is now the Dread Pirate Roberts, headed for a life of luxury in Patagonia. I think that makes things clear enough, hmmm?
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