You wanna know how a chopper is supposed to sit? That's how a chopper is supposed to sit. That's how my chopper sits - just right. You'll notice my el-cheapo brand 12 volt coil especially chosen for it's classic bad looks and failure prone characteristics. Also, note the curved license plate holder not hanging near anything close to it's own shape. I needed a license plate frame and the two bolts meant to hold it on to a BDL drive matched up with the holes in the fender along the support arm. It was meant to be. A small bit of bling can't hurt a thing. These pipes were supposed to fit a shovelhead 66-69 in a rigid frame, and that's all they fit. I had to cut them off at the upsweep to keep the ends from smacking into the swingarm shocks.

What Would Warren Build Part 5 I knew I was in hell because there was a guy next to me screaming "Kill me, please God, KILL ME!" Now, if you've ever heard a human being beg to be killed, it's a pretty mortifying experience. The amount of pain you have to be in to beg for death is extreme. Especially to really mean it. "Mr. Fuller...you need to breathe, Mr. Fuller" I couldn't open my eyes and the base of my spine was a searing ball of white hot light and pain. It was hot, sweaty, bleeding, leaky and pain like I've never felt. They asked if it hurt and I mumbled so they shot me with more Morphine. I've figured out the recover room deal for back surgery - they wake you up and give you just enough morphine so you don't die. They put a breathing monitor on you and if you stop breathing they come over and wake you up...until you scream, then they give you more morphine. The guy was letting loose with a stream of obscenities to which the nurse informed him he couldn't use that kind of language. "Please, I'm begging you, please KILL ME NOW - I can't stand this" Apparently, the morphine wasn't working for our friend. I knew he was a biker. Somehow I just knew it. I had to talk to him, so I yelled out "Hey man, you a rider?" I figured I'd keep his mind off the pain. "I...I was..." He stammered "Now I'm not OH GOD PLEASE KILL ME!". They had three people on him. I guess I could see again. They kept working on him as he screamed. They worked on him until he stopped screaming. Then his breathing alarm went off. They couldn't get him to breathe. It was as if all the drugs caught up with him. They began to yell at each other and wheeled him quickly out of the room still beeping. I think he might've got his wish, but I never knew who he was. Every bump in the tile shot silver hot sparks up my back and made it so I couldn't breathe as they wheeled me up to my room. The orderly apologized, but said there was nothing he could do. That wasn't that last time I hear that statement - and it was about to mean a whole lot more and get a whole lot worse. MORE>