Arthur Davidson, inventor of the Harley Davidson motorcycle

corporation, died and went to heaven. At the gates, St. Peter

told Arthur, "since you've been such a good man and your

motorcycles have changed the world, your reward is, you can

hang out with anyone you want in heaven."

Arthur thought about it for a minute and then said, "I want to

hang out with God."

So Arthur asked God " Hey, aren't you the inventor of woman?"

God said, "ah, yes."

"Well," said Arthur, "professional to professional, you have some

major design flaws in your invention:

1. There's too much inconsistency in the front-end protrusion.

2. It chatters constantly at high speeds.

3. Most of the rear ends are too soft and wobble too much.

4. The intake is placed way to close to the exhaust.

5. The maintenance costs are outrageous."

"Hmmm, you may have some good points there," replied God,

"hold on." so God went to his celestial super computer, typed in

a few words, and waited for the results.

The computer printed out a slip of paper and God read it.

"Well, it may be true that my invention is flawed," God tells Arthur,

"but according to these numbers, way more men are riding my invention than yours" !!!

A little old lady wants to join a biker club.

She knocks on the door of a local biker club and a big, hairy, bearded biker with tattoos all over his arms answers the door.

She proclaims, "I want to join your biker club".

The guy is amused and tells her that she needs to meet certain biker requirements before she is allowed to join. So the biker asks her, "You have a bike?"

The little old lady says, "Yea, that's my Harley over there", and points to a Harley parked in the driveway.

The biker asks her, "Do you smoke?"

The little old lady says, "Yea, I smoke. I smoke 4 packs of cigarettes a day and a couple of cigars while I'm shooting pool".

The biker is impressed and asks, "Well, have you ever been picked up by the Fuzz?"

The little old lady says, "No, I've never been picked up by the fuzz, but I've been swung around by my nipples a few times".

People who own Italian motorcycles don't really OWN the bikes, they just have the privilege of paying for their upkeep.