Ah, bad boys. They have been the curse of my love life since I was sixteen. One can see my Freudian fate played out so predictably over the years. Father's pay attention here, because little girls grow up to date men just like you. When I was little my father was a typical bad ass. Fiercely good looking and edgy, my teachers would flirt with him shamelessly right in front of me. Never to be pinned down, with grease under his fingernails and ripped up jeans, he would ride away into a mysterious "cool" existence and come back with cuts and bruises and stories to tell. How exciting and cruel it was for my mother, and now for me.
Just like Michelle Phieffer in Grease II, one of my favorite movies in my formidable years, I've always needed a 'cool rider that could burn me through and through'. Such a corny song, but how true it is.
Those damned bad boys hurt so much, but the ride is... heaven.