How do you like going along at a steady clip in 3 lanes of heavy-but-moving rush hour traffic when they start weaving in and out at 85+ mph? You hear the snarly rice-beater engine winding up and they fly by about 3" from your passenger side mirror. And you know if they hit you, their next of kin will come after your insurance company
I call those crotch rockets chlorine for the gene pool.
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