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I saw this done on a Rune site and thought it might be of interest here. A lot of us use road names/nicknames and it is interesting how we got them. Here's mine.

In the mid 80s a freind asked me to help him out running a home construction crew. I was in my early 40s and most of the guys on the crew in their early 20s. One night while having a few beers after work with the guys someone called me OD, when I asked what they meant his reply was "Old Dave" Hence, the OD part.

Part 2: In 2001 I had the honor of being a Road Guard for a group of vetrans riding form California to Washington DC. I had close to 350 motorcycles following me when a vehicle in front of me dropped a wooden pallet. I had no way of avoiding it,instinct took over, full throttle, elbows up and straight foreward. At the next gas stop a lot of the guys come over (after I changed my shorts) to marvel at my feat, no one had ever seen a fully loaded electra glide fly like that. I was told my new roadname would be "Airborne"

A lot of people know me as "OD" and others as "Airborne" so Airborneod was born.
 

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I like the concept of the thread. Within the motorcycle community, I'm sill waiting for something to stick.

In the cycling (18 pound bikes, not 800 pound!) community, it was "Dot" after one particularly good day in the hills northwest of Leakey (Texas). There was a chase group determined to reel me back in. Despite their best attempts to organize in pacelines for drafting, I remained a "dot" on the next climb out ahead of them through out the 100 miles that day.
 

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Wow! These should be good.
I was 19 years old and on my first Harley. By the time I was 20, I was riding as a full patch wearing member of a Motorcycle club. EVERYBODY had a roadname, except me. Well, I stand at 6'3" and (at that time) I would tip the scales at 140 pounds. My waist size was a whoping 28. One person kept calling me "skin-N-bones" and after a few weeks, it became "BONES". It stuck. I now have it printed on my checks, cards and most people I know call me "BONES"
 

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My nickname given to me by a GoldWing drill team I used to be on is "Slip-n-Slide" after a van pulled in front of me on a wet freeway.

With it being Washington state the roads including freeways are crowned to get the water off the road. When I put on my brakes my tires went sideways out from under me and I went siding down the freeway. Thankfully the van that pulled in front of me pulled away just fast enough that I didn't hit it. Or I would of had a nick name something closer to splat.

I fully believe that if I had ABS brakes I wouldn't have gone down.

A few years later a Jeep rammed me from behind when I was going about 35-40 MPH. He hit me hard enough to smash my Wing out from under me but turned just enough that he didn't run over me. Once again I was "Slip-n-Sliding" down the road again.

Every time I hear the Willy Nelson song, "On the road again" ...

Thankfully I wasn't really hurt at all the first time. The second time I just had a bunch of bumps and bruises including a bruised rotator cuff, but nothing broken. That's because I was wearing proper riding clothes including a full face helmet and I didn't have "high sudden de-exceleration.
 

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There's a couple guys here in the little town of Harrison, Arkansas with matching jackets and nearly-matching Harleys. They usually pull up side by side at the stoplights, and people behind them read the nicknames emblazoned across the backs of their jackets: "Crash" and "Burn."

I wanted to get with a friend and do our jackets, "Scratch" and "Sniff," but I don't have any friends. And even if I did, they'd probably all want to be "Scratch."

Bad Ted
http://www.phfft.com
 

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... so there are better things to do with sheep, than eat them ;) - well, everyones got to have a hobby :D:D
 

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Remember when the video game "Asteroids" came out? I used to play it quite a bit - when you earned a 'top 10' score you were to put in your initials - to advertise who was doing what.

While playing one day, a spectator compared me to the anteater in the comic strip B.C. She said it was 'just like licking up a buncha ants'. Name stuck and here I am - Zotter - he who ZOTs :cool: :cool:
 

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NOGILLS2 is a play on my last name. GILLESS, it is an unusual spelling of it and to explain the spelling I usually say Gill Less, you know, no gills.

A moniker I have received from my riding buddies is ROCK-N-ROLL, and if you own an LT you can just guess where that came from!
 

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When I was riding Harleys and in a HOG chapter back about 1991, we were on our annual Christmas toy run for the local hospital. We finished the drop off and were taking a group ride on the coast. I was the assistant Road Captain so I was riding in the back of the pack. Suddenly everyone in front of me started weaving to avoid something in the road. The guy right in front of me swerved but didn't quite miss the object, which turned out to be a fresh roadkill. He hit it just right, and it flipped up in the air, sailed back, and hit me in the chest, face and left shoulder. It wasn't until we stopped at the local watering hole that I could tell anything was wrong, and that was when everyone backed away from me very quickly. Apparently I smelled kinda bad, and I was known as "Skunk" for many years after that.
 

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Although I have no nickname to speak of in the 'real' world, I've been known as 'messenger13' for as long as I could connect to another PC via a 9600 baud modem.

Many of you already know that I'm a christian...hence the messenger part. But the '13' part is not so easy to figure out. Ya see...the number 13 has received a bad wrap for a long time. So much so that almost everyone has a slight case of triskaidekaphobia. Of course, being a 'man of faith', this is utterly ridiculous. Who could be afraid of a NUMBER?! Then I learned that the Old Testament calls the number 13, "the number of mystery". Now...that's COOL! ...and so 'messenger13' was born. A messenger of mystery.

The message? Jesus loves you.
The mystery? WHY? :cool:

Hey! You asked . . .
 

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Neat idea, Joe. Aren't you glad that the mystery has been revealed? PTL!
 

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Nothing as interesting for me.
Old bbs's wouldn't accept more than 8 letters (limits of DOS) for a username so Kenn D Campbell became KDBell
 

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"Lurch" fits me due to my diminutive 6'6" stature but it came about in college.

A buddy let my try out his ninja ZX-10 (Great bike, Joe! I had one for 5 years!). I took in into the country and flogged it a little, then was cruising back through town thinking I was a pretty cool when at a stoplight, I see the most gorgeous set of legs attached to an equally stunning posterior and it only get better the further I looked up. I rev'd the engine and when she looked over my direction, I had no choice but to give her a little wave. Unfortunately, there wasn't much blood going to my brain and when I waved with my left hand, there was a little issue with the bike still being in 1st gear. It "Lurched" out from under me and into the intersection. Without the helpful posts on this board, I didn't know the correct way to raise a bike and tried just pulling it up with no effect. Meanwhile, Ms. Universe is still standing there on the corner laughing at me. Luckily (or unluckily) two other guys I knew were a couple of cars back and helped me get it upright (and ensured that the story and my newfound nickname made it around campus). I never saw her again after that and I'm not sure that's such a bad thing.
 

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Handle

I was in the Army and attending "Air Assault" School in Hawaii. Just before my first egress from a helicopter durring the rappelling phase, I remember the Drill Instructor mentioning how important it was not to get tangled in another jumpers ropes...but I don't recall him ever saying what to do if it happened. Well, my first jump was from a UH1 (Huey) which is smaller than the Black Hawk that we used in the proceeding insertions. I guess, somehow I got wound around the rope of the soldier rappelling from either next to me or from the opposite side of the chopper and I started to spin. I didn't know what to do. I just hanged there...Spinning...and I couldn't hear anything with the rotor wash and aircraft noise and all. Finally, right before I was ready to pass out and fall to my probable death, I glanced down and saw the instructor motioning for me to throw out my brake hand that holds the rope tentioned against the carabeener. Just like that I complied, stopped spinning and decended. Never did find out how it happened.
When I got down, one of my squad-mates kidded me by saying.." you looked like a weed whacker spinning up there" Well, Whacker eventually evolved into Macker. That was in the late 80's Early 90's. No one calls me that these days but I use it in situations like this.
 

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My brother-in-law Mike is a deputy sherrif. Poor guy has no hair above his ears except for his eyebrows. A few years back he and another deputy were serving warrants way out in the sticks. They went to serve some paper on someone they had had a previous encounter or two with, none pleasant and expected some sort of trouble from their customer. When they got out of their cars, their "customer, who happened to be pretty drunk, yelled out "look who came to see me, Shiney and Shorty" Mike being the taller got stuck being called Shiney to this day and his partner is still Shorty. Both ride by the way and are known by these handles.
 
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