Foreboding.
Total complete confidence in its power and awe, and it's willing to kick your ass on a whim.
Das Hun triggers me. It's threatening. I can't take my eyes off it.

My Trikke 8 sits under it like an erector set toy under the real Eiffel Tower.
It completely dominates my living room.

I feel like I did when I was in Galleria dell'Accademia and saw Michelangelo's David.
There is a presence in the room.

God Bless Gildolangelo!

And I, poor Goliath, have been beaten.

I'm aching. My morning trikking, suddenly is "my run with the bulls," and it has just completely beaten the starch out of me. It's a prison sentence. Six months. And when I get out, I'm going to look like a gorilla. This is after all, The Hulk's Trikke. No, not Hogan, silly, that would be insulting; no this is Mr. Meangreen's Trikke. You may think you're ecto or endo, but meso is the inner morph that must emerge to play with Leviathug.

If you ain't one now -- like Claudio, for instance -- soon, very soon, you will be a fitness troglodyte.

--------

And why, why, why didn't they tell us about the silence?
Go ahead, push it. Go take your hardest carve at your highest speed.

Silence.
The rubber's bending around the debris and surface contours is like a bow wave of silence preceding you. It muffles every Trikke 8 sound to zero.

FREAKING ZERO!

--------

And the height!

I am Shaq.
Cop on a horse.
Kong on the Empire State.
I am Oversoul.
When I come upon you, you will deeply bow.

--------

I am a beginner again.

Edg

PS. True Story: My girlfriend, Georgia, gets on El Ogre, cuz she's jealous. Absently, I'm drooling over the disk brakes, you see. She takes off her pants. I haven't given her the time of day since Le Hooligan was "on the truck." Oblivious, I finger the tire treads. She takes off her blouse. Incognizant, I'm struck dumb by The Titan's dimensions. She strips completely and gyrates in every manner possible on Barbariansk.

Finally, something snapped.

I ponged: Pan/fire.

I pinged: Rock/hardplace.

I ponged: Monster/ms.

And I was in her arms again.

And then, she patted The Beast, and da vinci smiled at me -- content with her primacy again.

"Come with me."

An astral tail wagged, and dogboy happily followed.

Brutosaurus stayed behind -- awaiting.