Word: harleys
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...occasion, and stewards prepared to serve 600 bottles of imported wine a day to accompany the meals cooked by 20 imported Belgian chefs. While bands played such incongruous tunes as Marching Through Georgia, squadrons of police escorts roared down Kinshasa's boulevards all week long on their Harley-Davidson motorcycles...
Jeff Grant (160) lost to Robbie Harley, 6-1, but Chris Wickens foiled Brown's strategy by defeating the first 152 man, John Buxton, 4-1. The second of the 152 pounders--Buttrill--came out to meet Howie Freedman (who himself was announced at 191 before the meet) and met the crucifix...
...whizzy world of two-wheeled transportation, Honda Motors Co. of Japan has long since lapped the field. Honda's U.S. export models are the fastest selling numbers since the salad day of the Harley-Davidson. Its cycles take home most of the prizes in international racing. Its new, lightweight "Little Honda" motor bike sells like soy sauce in Japan, will be introduced in the U.S. next year at about $100. And now the world's largest motorcycle manufacturer is tooling up for a sharp turn into the international auto market...
Sandals & Beards. The trigger that sets Drury's plot in motion is a revolution in the emerging African nation of Gorotoland. U.S. President Harley M. Hudson (the "Vice President" of Advise and Consent) cautions the insurgents against endangering American life and property there. But the rebels ignore him, kill 50 Americans and set fire to the local Standard Oil facilities. Hudson swiftly dispatches U.S. troops to Gorotoland, and goes on the air to tell the U.S.: "It was time to re-establish the fact that when America says something, she means it. Specifically, it was time to re-establish...
...Wild Angels. Across the flats of southern California hustles a big mean hog. Ape bars, twin exhausts, chrome on everything except the rubber, this Harley is doing a ton and still hot to trot. At the stomper sits Heavenly Blues (Peter Fonda), a cool fool dragging a black leather jacket, bronk boots, hair as long as a girl's, and a German Iron Cross. With his free hand, H.B. picks his nose and then thoughtfully scratches his crotch. On the stingy seat, wearing a grab-me sweater, sits his sheep (Nancy Sinatra). Behind them 20 other double-straddled sickles...