Biker Down

A couple of Mustang drivers are behind bars following a Sunday crash where a motorcyclist died after the pair were allegedly racing

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A couple of Mustang drivers are behind bars following a Sunday crash where a motorcyclist died after the pair were allegedly racing on a Conroe road.

Joseph Ontario Amigliore, 19, and Franco Benjamin Muto, 20, both from Porter, are being charged with racing on a highway causing death, a second-degree felony, according to Montgomery County Assistant District Attorney Andrew James.

While allegedly racing southbound between the 17200 and the 17500 blocks of FM 1314, one or both collided with a Nissan pickup truck pulling out of the Buster’s Crawfish restaurant. One of the Mustang drivers then allegedly struck a motorcyclist who died on the scene, according to James.

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The victim is named Ross Reynolds, according to James. He is reportedly a 60-year-old Cornoe man, according to the Montgomery County Police Reporter website.

As of Monday afternoon, Amigliore and Muto are being held with no bond at the Montgomery County Jail, according to jail records. If convicted, Amigliore and Muto could face up to 20 years in prison.

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A case like this is a rarity in Montgomery County, said James, who serves as vehicular crimes chief at the DA’s Office. He recalled a 2009 Conroe road wreck where two teenagers were racing against each other and an occupant of one died upon the vehicle crashing.

Lazaro Millan was sentenced to 10 years and Johnnie Lewis O’Neal, the driver whose occupant died, was sentenced to 60 days. His probation was later revoked after he received a DWI, according to court records. O’Neal is now serving 17 years in prison, James said.

A Rebels bikie gang boss awaiting deportation to New Zealand says his fellow detainees will follow quarantine rules when they arrive.

Texas experienced 412 motorcyclist deaths in 2019, according to a press release made available Monday by the Texas Department of Transportation.

2 comments

  1. In LA we have an epidemic of these assholes streetracing in the stupidest places.
    I don’t feel one iota of pity for the morons, or the other morons who get into the cars with them. They have no idea what they are doing. Can’t drive for shit and if they’re lucky, it’s only a pole or tree they wrapped around killing everyone in the car and not injuring or killing anyone else.
    Usually the other assholes split so they can attempt avoidance of the vehicular manslaughter/homicide charges as well as the civil suits.
    They give a fuck if it’s a residential area and people are walking, crossing in crosswalks, on bicycles, or motorcycles.
    FUCK ‘EM. HOPE THEY ALL CRASH & BURN. THEY’RE TOO STUPID TO LIVE. JUST DON’T TAKE ANYBODY ELSE, WHO HASN’T AGREED TO THIS SHIT ALONG WITH YOR DUMB FUCKING ASS.

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  2. Just a few notes to my previous comment.
    I used to race cars. Cars meant to race. And I was good at it too. Nobody ever beat me. But, I did have one killer fucking faster than you can imagine car to race
    But even better than my car, was having the opportunity, and sheer luck, I suppose, to be friends with a fantastically close friend of Carroll Shelby’s.
    Yeah, Carroll dropped by one day at the guys office, which just happened to be along the private side of a pretty large airport.
    We heard him driving up over the sound of single and twin engine aircraft as well as private jets.
    Of course, we were all outside immediately. Damn! I had a difficult time not actually drooling over that Shelby Cobra of his. You know that after all the introductions were made and a little small talk, I was walking around that exquisite piece of vehicular equipment and machinery. And damned if he hadn’t even left the key in the ignition. I just kept slowly examining every millimeter of his Cobra and wanting so, so uncontrollably to hop into it and take off for a quick ride and bring it back of course.
    Well, Carroll was a huge flirt, my husband was giggling about it because he knew I was only playing back. Nothing was going to happen.
    But, after a while of “fun with Carroll” he let me sit in the passenger seat. Then he showed me the shifting pattern.
    Oh shit!
    He actually allowed me to let that beauty RIP the entire length of the airport and back. After he got the ok from ATC, but he’d been doing it forever. He just conveniently omitted the fact that he wasn’t going to be behind the wheel.
    Worked for me just fine. I wasn’t going to tell them!
    Now, I have driven faster, but when in your entire life are you going to have Carroll Shelby let you speed like a bat out of hell in HIS personal fucking Cobra, his favorite one at that. Never.
    You bet your ass I wasn’t about to pass on that opportunity. Would you? Doubtful.
    And, FUCK YES, I WILL NEVER FORGET HIM OR THE COBRA, AND DEFINITELY NOT THE RIDE.
    And it was fun watching him, my now late ex-husband and everyone else as I tossed off the designer heels, turned my back to the wall to reach under my skirt and remove those lovely silk stockings, because I didn’t want my feet slipping on the pedals. Carroll laughed so hard he was crying. But he agreed it was a smart move. It worked!
    I have to say again, one of the more unique and memorable experiences I can talk about.
    What can I say, I’ve led an interesting and some might say a completely bizarre life.
    At least I never wasted a moment of any of it. No fucking cubicles for me.
    I laugh thinking about the few people who had any idea about what I really did, who I was connected with, and even though they were a party to some of that shit, they said over & over again for decades that I should write a book.
    WHAT THE FUCK?
    1. I have a strong sense of self preservation.
    2. Why would I want to fuck up or destroy people’s lives who either were or became famous?
    Because 1. I am not a fucking snitch, period. 2. What kind of complete piece of shit do you have to be to do either of these things. That’s unbelievably wrong and fucked up beyond all reason. Yeah, any of you old enough remember what FUBAR stands for. Sometimes the r gets changed as far as what word’s used, but it’s really all the same shit.

    But, yeah, Carroll and that Cobra were more than just fun. That ride was an absolutely fantastic kick ass adrenaline rush that I certainly will not ever forget, and I thanked Carroll so many times over the years I was around him, and he always got a gigantic smile each time. But I never asked him to drive it again.
    Know when to appreciate what you were privileged to do and leave it at that. But never forget to let that special person know how grateful you are for the opportunity they allowed you to have, and don’t wear out your welcome. It can be a very fine line.
    Life’s short. Don’t waste whatever time you have. Live every second like it’s your last. It may very well be.

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