Old Bloody had two things in like he lived by. Instinct and his religion and his instincts had always served him well. His religion had nothing to do with bible thumping and everything to do with the code. He don't laugh much but when he hears today's riders claim old school he has to chuckle, His religion was tied to his brand and his patch..a patch he had earned forty-one years before and retired years ago. The young clubbers still stop by for advice but hardly ever listen but Bloody is happy that his legacy is still remembered. You did what the patch asked without question,,hell Bloody did ten years in Folsom but never turned rat..his pride still shines today.
Sitting in the little bar he always wanted, a place for the brothers and old lady's to party thinking how at sixty-two he is about the only one left. It a hard life and there is no old biker home..Bloody had many an old lady but never had love the club came firsts. He remembers far more funerals then weddings..All the sons who were slated to take over club business had moved on the the world the fathers had hated and fought so hard to resist. Bloody didn't like the way things have turned but some how understood, not many can be true to the brand..
There are days now siting in the little dusty bar at the end of the road Bloody wonders about the past..What did he miss, what left to find. The old dogs would have been at home at the end of the road,,Hell twenty years ago this place would go all day and night..Now he get courtesy stop by the club..a few of the old timers stop by and his old lady comes in and helps clean the place up..flips a few burgers and asks if this dump will ever pay the bills..Bloody doesn't care one way or the other..he's found his perfect end of the road..memory's hang on the walls..Old friends still surround him..
3 days ago