I rock pretty hard.

I certainly do.

And now for the main-course of this mechanical meal:

I am in love.

I think this bike encompasses everything that I ever needed in my life. It's retardedly fast, it doesn't care, it gets good gas mileage (but can also get terrible mpg when you really let her loose), and I'm fairly certain that it absorbes all evil that it comes near. I'm serious. Look at this thing. I bet it powers itself by tearing open the astral plains and feeding off the negative emotions in the world. How could I ever be angry or sad again with a bike like that? It's all the anger I'd ever need. Fast and the Furious, meet Furiously Fast. Okay, so that was really dumb. Please don't judge me.

This bike (for lack of a better term; I imagine in its [the bikes] native tongue, it's called something more like Great Tach'alek Tetrakisironfisted Deathbringer) looks something almost exactly like, but just not quite, a praying mantis on steroids spray painted black after eating a locomotive. Ladies, if you're ovulating, you might want to stop looking at it, because that bike is so manly the mere sight of it could impregnate you. Wait, in that case keep looking. I think the world could use a good batch of Wraith spawnlings, bred for their capabilities in hand-to-hand combat, as they'd be 7-foot-tall and constructed of steel with carbon-fiber skin. We already have Ligers for magic.
Look, all I'm trying to say here is that I really really would like to be able to buy this bike. Just so happens that I'm shy a mere 50 grand. So, anyone out there who's looking for (what I believe to be) a good cause to unload some dough, look no further. The Wraith calls to you. to give me the money. so that I may call to it.

man this is gonna rock.