You might be a Hooligan if...
You think the fastest way around town involves riding your motorcycle on sidewalks.
You like to impress people by doing wheelies and thought the cops parked on the corner would enjoy the show as well.
You've had a police officer tell you that the first time he saw you wheelie, he was impressed.
You are on a first name basis with cops from small towns you only ride through on weekends.
You think posted speed limits are "for cars" and do not apply to motorcycles.
You're in a constant struggle to retain your "driving privileges."
You know the phrase "continuance for dismissal."
You refer to the time when your license has been revoked as the "off season."
You speed up when you see the sign "Dangerous Curves Ahead"
You've actually had passengers fall off your motorcycle.
You think it's mandatory to wheelie out of toll booths.
You know what the term "faller" means.
You tuck your mirrors in for less wind resistance.
You need to buy rear tires several times a season because you keep blowing them out from burnouts.
You only get passed when you're parked.
You think any stop that doesn't involve an endo is a waste of brakes.
Your three motorcycles can't be ridden because various driveline failures.
You think of traffic as moving pylons.
You think that a motor that can over rev is really cool.
You buy more than one helmet a year because of crash damage.
Fellow motorcyclists get out of your way on group rides.
Fellow racers get out of your way during the race.
You can discuss the wheelie capabilities of every one of your friend's motorcycles you've ridden in the past ten years.
You've actually seen smoke coming off of your brakes.
Your idea of a brake job is replacing warped rotors and nothing else.
You think replacing the clutch is part of routine maintenance done when you change the oil.
You know what the term "tank slapper" means.
You buy the most common bike so that when you crash you can find parts in the junk yard.
You think the term "contact patch" means the surface area of your knee sliders.
You think a broom handle makes perfectly good passenger pegs in the event they've been sheered off from sliding across pavement.
You own a NOS kit, but can't figure out what bike to put it on.
You have seen green oil in your engine.
You're happy that Road America is now letting motorcycles compete and have already sent in your application.
You've ridden a wheelie up and down stairs.
Your childhood fantasy of riding a dirtbike on a golf course became a reality.
Your dirtbike fantasy of riding a sportbike on a golf course became a reality while being pursued by the local police.
You've ridden a motorcycle through a public building.
You're planning on ramp jumping the main street of Sturgis on Friday night during the rally at some point.
You've been banned from ever competing in an Iron Butt-sanctioned event.
Bail bondsmen solicit you for your account.
And the number one reason you might be a motorcycle hooligan is when you've stopped for gas on a road trip and three minutes later a state trooper roars into town and tells you that he's been chasing you for 10 miles and you didn't know it!
You think the fastest way around town involves riding your motorcycle on sidewalks.
You like to impress people by doing wheelies and thought the cops parked on the corner would enjoy the show as well.
You've had a police officer tell you that the first time he saw you wheelie, he was impressed.
You are on a first name basis with cops from small towns you only ride through on weekends.
You think posted speed limits are "for cars" and do not apply to motorcycles.
You're in a constant struggle to retain your "driving privileges."
You know the phrase "continuance for dismissal."
You refer to the time when your license has been revoked as the "off season."
You speed up when you see the sign "Dangerous Curves Ahead"
You've actually had passengers fall off your motorcycle.
You think it's mandatory to wheelie out of toll booths.
You know what the term "faller" means.
You tuck your mirrors in for less wind resistance.
You need to buy rear tires several times a season because you keep blowing them out from burnouts.
You only get passed when you're parked.
You think any stop that doesn't involve an endo is a waste of brakes.
Your three motorcycles can't be ridden because various driveline failures.
You think of traffic as moving pylons.
You think that a motor that can over rev is really cool.
You buy more than one helmet a year because of crash damage.
Fellow motorcyclists get out of your way on group rides.
Fellow racers get out of your way during the race.
You can discuss the wheelie capabilities of every one of your friend's motorcycles you've ridden in the past ten years.
You've actually seen smoke coming off of your brakes.
Your idea of a brake job is replacing warped rotors and nothing else.
You think replacing the clutch is part of routine maintenance done when you change the oil.
You know what the term "tank slapper" means.
You buy the most common bike so that when you crash you can find parts in the junk yard.
You think the term "contact patch" means the surface area of your knee sliders.
You think a broom handle makes perfectly good passenger pegs in the event they've been sheered off from sliding across pavement.
You own a NOS kit, but can't figure out what bike to put it on.
You have seen green oil in your engine.
You're happy that Road America is now letting motorcycles compete and have already sent in your application.
You've ridden a wheelie up and down stairs.
Your childhood fantasy of riding a dirtbike on a golf course became a reality.
Your dirtbike fantasy of riding a sportbike on a golf course became a reality while being pursued by the local police.
You've ridden a motorcycle through a public building.
You're planning on ramp jumping the main street of Sturgis on Friday night during the rally at some point.
You've been banned from ever competing in an Iron Butt-sanctioned event.
Bail bondsmen solicit you for your account.
And the number one reason you might be a motorcycle hooligan is when you've stopped for gas on a road trip and three minutes later a state trooper roars into town and tells you that he's been chasing you for 10 miles and you didn't know it!
