They're twin shochs, aren't they? Personally, I can't even begin to spend that kind of money on any bike with twin shocks. You know bike really is a shame...the new Harley Vrod series. Boy, they had a chance to really build something, and they built...'that'. It's got a decent engine, actually one that really can be made to make hp, witness that pro-drag bike they've built; they hydro-formed the frame, then put twin shocks on it. Why? They could've made a mono-shock Vrod, but if they did they'd have no problem morphing that bike into anything the public wanted, like BIG hp version of a naked bike....well, they'd have to put it on huge diet, too.
Of course, most of the guys who buy the current versions could use a little dieting, too. We are becoming "Generation XXL", it's like the norm' now. I know I'm going off here WARNING: PLEASE STOP READING IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ONE OF MY STORIES, but in 1957 when I was in the second grade, we had only one fat kid in the class.
He was Dale Danish, and I was so unused to seeing anyone overweight that at first I was wondering why he had sooo many shirts on (?) Dale was the only child of a local chicken farmer and a schoolteacher, who I never did figure out why the hell they were together. He was scrawny little man who constantly smelled like chicken shit, a stench only preceded by the smell of pigs who are being fed garbage, <see, you continued to read against your better judgement and now you can almost smell that chicken shit> and the nature of the chickens acrid feces had burned his scrawny vocal chords out so he sounded a munchkin with bad larangitis. She, on the other hand, was a well dressed, kind of handsome woman in a cold way, and very well educated. They divorced as soon as Dale left the house.
He had me up to the farm to play once and that kid had everything that you ever dreamed of when you were a kid. He had a plastic machine gun on a tripod that spit plastic bullets, he had an overhead electric toy trolley that ran across the living room, which was his toyland or at least one room of it.
So, we went outside to the chicken coops to play. We were going to shoot rats and Dale had actual guns to do this with, a Co2 pellet rifle and a Daisy BB rifle. Of course he got the pellet rifle, and when we got inside the coops, after awhile he shot me on the leg and then starting laughing his ass about it. So I shot him back and he went holwing for the house so he had dropped his bullwhip when he took off and I wasn't done with him at that point so I grabbed the bullwhip and began giving it to him while he ran. I whipped him right past the house and down the driveway(and geez, he only got shot somewhere near his groin and you'd of thought he was gonna'die to hear him screaming!), and ran him right across CRT2 whipping his ass all the way and up into the field on the other side and then he amazingly made it over a snowfence. At that point, Mr Danish came screaming out of the house and came and got me and put me in his car and took me home, dropping me quickly in my driveway and left. I never got invited back for some reason, I guess I was the only one who had fun that day, and I really had some huge righteous fun.
I do now have to fight a distrust for fat people, though. I've learned that they're not all bad, there are some good ones out there.