Charlie Sheen Shirts

The entrepreneur loved his crotch rocket practically as much is life itself. He often said it was best than sex, and he enjoyed racing his motorcycle through the canyons even more than running the multi-million Dollar enterprise he created. One day when racing through the canyons in the hills above Malibu California, he noted it was getting a little hot in the canyons, so he rode back down the windy Latigo Canyon Road, and picked up Pch (Pacific Coast Highway).

From there, he headed west, and was faithful to drive the speed limit because his driver's license had been revoked and there were cops everywhere on Pch. He'd often had his license suspended, or revoked, off and on for the last two decades. He undoubtedly had the need for speed. One of his favorite rides was turning onto Mulholland Highway at Leo Carillo Beach, waiting for the second hand on his Watch to hit 12, and then gunning the motor and dumping the clutch and racing up to Decker Canyon to see if he could break his all-time record. He was inevitable he had run that Canyon Faster than anyone ever alive.

Charlie Sheen

It was a blast, and an adrenaline rush, that is until one day a baby deer was right in his path, he attempted to swerve around it, started to lose control, recovered, and went into a turn with his knee on the paveMent, and his peg scraping. His institution Yoshimura pipe scraped on the ground, and must have caught a rock or something, as the bike started to high-side. Again he was able to recover, and his adrenaline was pumping like he'd never felt before. There was hardly any time left, and he tried to slow up is Fast as he could before he ran out of road.

It would be whether the cliff on his right side, or the rocky and jagged mountain on the left, he chose the ladder, and it cost him about 00 in repAirs. He bailed just before he hit the wall of rocks, and was for real more implicated with his motorcycle than his sprained ankle, sore Wrist rest, minor road rash, and bruised ego. The Kawasaki dealer wouldn't have his Gsr 750 out of repAirs for over a month, and parts were back-ordered all the way to Tokyo.

Oh well, he had the money, so he went down to the Honda store and bought a new Honda Cbr 600 Rr, he hadn't had a Honda Hurricane for 10-years now, and he all the time loved that bike. He bought the newest model with all the bells and whistles, totally raced out. He rode the motorcycle to Las Vegas to break it in, and allow the rings to seat, and the next weekend he went down to Willow Springs Racetrack, took off all plastic, and wired up all the bolts as was required and put it through its paces. Advent out of turn seven, he must have caught a piece of the Tire which had not been worn in properly.

He slid his bike into the hay bales at a 135 miles per hour as he pushed his bike away, and hit the hay bale right next door, just shaking his head as he got up and looked at his brand-new motorcycle in a state of disrepair, wondering how he was going to get back home. Luckily, he saw one of his friends from The Rock Store, a biker's hang out in the hills of the Santa Monica Mountains, and his friend helped him load up his mangled bike, and gave him a ride home.

Once he got home and unloaded his motorcycle, he started daydreaming about discrete modifications he could make. He'd all the time wanted to build his own airplane, an ultra-light, or an ExperiMental Aviation relationship kit plan. He wondered if he could strap on a set of wings to this motorcycle, rebuild it himself, and make it into an airplane. "I could use fiberglass, and an expandable wing, I can use a rubber gear off the back Tire to rotate a propeller," he thought.

The next day, he went down to his business, where he had shop, and he brought back some tools to his garage at home. He built a small nose cone for the motorcycle, and a foldable wing system. As he did this, he also got his old motorcycle back, brand-new, and as good as newer better, while he was putting the final touches on his Flying Motorcycle. He had realized that he needed a longer road way, than his windy driveway to take off, one that perhaps didn't have any major corners and it, for his first test flight. There was a stretch of road not far from his home near Malibu Canyon Road which would suffice.

He made several runs, before he got up the nerve to for real fly the thing away. Everything felt good, the wings were getting lift, it for real felt like it wanted to fly, so, he decided he would use a stretch of road which was slightly sloped downward, and take off from there, and then fly out through the canyon towards the beach area. He figured he could land before he ran out of fuel, near Point Mugu Rock and State Beach where the roadway was very wide on Pch. Then he would merely pull off to the side of the road, fold the wings back up and drive home. At least that was the plan, but as you go plans all the time change.

Just before he was ready to take off there was a police car up ahead in the distance Advent towards him up the hill. He'd already committed to flying away, and he was probably going to Fast to make the projection without scraping the wings which he had just unfolded. He didn't want to wreck his contraption, or get a ticket from the police officer for driving a motorcycle with wings on it. He figured that the California car Code was nearly as thick as a phonebook, and there was probably a law in there somewhere against it.

As soon as he reached flying speed, he leaned back, downshifted, and pulled a wheelie, the motorcycle leapt into the air, unbelievable him, and he gave it full power taking it to 11,000 Rpm, and then he shifted again and gave it more power again, and then twice more. By then he had taken off, and crossed the road in front of him, right over and in front of the oncoming police car. "Oh crap! I know that police officer, and he's going to recognize my helmet." It was too late now and he enjoyed his flight immensely, and just as he had planned he landed on Pch near Point Mugu Rock.

As he was unfolding the wings, a Chp drove by, pulled in behind him, and within minutes had put him in handcuffs. Apparently, the first police officer had turned on his lights after he flew over the car, and called him in for evading a police officer and flying away. He bailed out that evening, and came back two weeks later to go to court. Apparently, the judge was quite a hard nose, and he was permanently after young motorcycle riders for crossing over the double yellow lines in the canyon, calling those actions a; "Malibu Felony" because there have been so many head-on crashes in the canyons in the hills above Malibu.

He tried to tell the judge that, he was already airborne before he crossed the yellow line, and he'd already left the pavement prior to reaching the speed limit, and that the police man didn't turn on his lights that he ever saw. Further he asked if the police officer worked for the Faa too, which obviously he did not, so therefore, he hadn't committed the violations on the ticket. The officer said he had him on radar, and he said; "yes, but I wasn't driving at that point, I was flying." The judge realized that the young entrepreneur was going to bring in the media and make an additional one spectacle out of his courtroom as Paris Hilton, Mel Gibson, Charlie Sheen, Nick Nolte, and Robert Downey Jr. Had in the last few years.

The judge was Tired of the paparazzi, and media events. He finally said to the crotch-rocket, aerospace designer; "Not Guilty, and now get the hell out of my courtroom, and if you want to fly that thing, get a pilot's license and take it to Camarillo or Santa Monica Airport, or hell, build your own runway up on the hill, but don't pull that stunt again, or I through you in jail, do you hear me son?"

"Yes Sir," he said. The police officer came up to him later, and said, "no hard feelings, hey, I was just doing my Job, do you think you could hire my kid for the summer in your company?"

"Sure," he said, "as long as you, don't write me for exhibition of speed or doing a wheelie, I am afraid that fee might have stuck, and I know this judge has it out for me now."

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