~A Story About Meeting Bonochick~
by: Some guy called Cannonball
I met Bonochick one time at a biker rally in Kansas City. She drove up in an old VW van that had a bumper sticker that said, "Gas, grass or ass... No one rides for free." I knew it was her as soon as she jumped out of the van because under her leather vest she was wearing a black t-shirt with white letters that said, "My name is Bonochick from the Dot.Org - What the fuck are you looking at." Her wardrobe was complete with assless chaps as she almost strolled right by me with the help of an old cane made of hickory.
So I went up and introduced myself as Cannonball and she said she'd love to hangout and chat but she was late for a contest on the south green. Apparently she was competing in an event whereas the winner was the one with the fastest time dragging a semi rig 50 yards by a rope pulled by her teeth. She eneded up placing 3rd.
Later that night we met up at the outdoor bar on Vine St. I offered to buy her a beer but she politely declined, for she was sipping - check that, chugging - from a fifth of Old Crow whiskey that she had smuggled in through her vest. She said she was working on her 3rd bottle that night. I asked if she was going to have a difficult time driving home after consuming so much alcohol and she said it's a non-issue. When askd 'how so?' she explained that whenever she goes to a biker rally she usually goes home with the winner of the Skoal Chewing Tobacco Spitting contest - "no strings attached." Who the actual winner was really didn't matter, apparently she had a groopie-type thing for these guys and was careful to explain that she would "do whatever it takes" to make sure she was chosen as the lucky girl to be taken home (or rather to the nearest Motel 8 as it were), by the marginally famous winner. She then couteously thanked me for my company and said she was off to find Duane Dagwood - this year's winner of the Tobacco contest. And that was the first and last time that I met Bonochick.
by: Some guy called Cannonball
I met Bonochick one time at a biker rally in Kansas City. She drove up in an old VW van that had a bumper sticker that said, "Gas, grass or ass... No one rides for free." I knew it was her as soon as she jumped out of the van because under her leather vest she was wearing a black t-shirt with white letters that said, "My name is Bonochick from the Dot.Org - What the fuck are you looking at." Her wardrobe was complete with assless chaps as she almost strolled right by me with the help of an old cane made of hickory.
So I went up and introduced myself as Cannonball and she said she'd love to hangout and chat but she was late for a contest on the south green. Apparently she was competing in an event whereas the winner was the one with the fastest time dragging a semi rig 50 yards by a rope pulled by her teeth. She eneded up placing 3rd.
Later that night we met up at the outdoor bar on Vine St. I offered to buy her a beer but she politely declined, for she was sipping - check that, chugging - from a fifth of Old Crow whiskey that she had smuggled in through her vest. She said she was working on her 3rd bottle that night. I asked if she was going to have a difficult time driving home after consuming so much alcohol and she said it's a non-issue. When askd 'how so?' she explained that whenever she goes to a biker rally she usually goes home with the winner of the Skoal Chewing Tobacco Spitting contest - "no strings attached." Who the actual winner was really didn't matter, apparently she had a groopie-type thing for these guys and was careful to explain that she would "do whatever it takes" to make sure she was chosen as the lucky girl to be taken home (or rather to the nearest Motel 8 as it were), by the marginally famous winner. She then couteously thanked me for my company and said she was off to find Duane Dagwood - this year's winner of the Tobacco contest. And that was the first and last time that I met Bonochick.
Assless Chaps 
