The usual hipster custom cues are here: severe tail bob, blacked-out everything, ridiculously low bars and bulky Firestone tires — or in this case, Fuckstone, I kid you not. But looking at some other details this might just be the front guard of a new sub-genre; I'll call it the muscle cafe.
Shaft drive, big motor, cast wheels, leather-wrapped tank, plus the power, sound and revs to let the boyz know this ain't no wheezy Beemer or tractor-motored Triumph. Those four cylinders translate to cojones, my friend, so shut the fuck up and have another latte.
For more details, visit the Pipeburn.com article here.