Not dead yet.

To quote Twain, the rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

The bike is yet to provide more danger than an increased heart rate and surge of adrenaline. It is still surpassed in risk by activities like kite surfing in over 30 knots of wind as per yesterday afternoon.

Some how I have managed to retain my licence and all my skin despite the little red thoroughbred wanting to get up on it's back wheel and scream away with the slightest twist of the wrist.

I may be getting older and more under control but I have to laugh at every idiot in a car that honestly thinks there is some point in trying to race against a bike like this. I refuse to play the game. Mostly. There just is no point, I will save the heroics for the track days.

Other than that, the silly season has arrived, girls keep turning up to various parties in short little Santa dresses and I feel obliged to unwrap as many presents as I get offered. I blame the bike for my bad boy lifestyle right now.

I have a guest post to put up in a day or so that has been sitting in my inbox for some time now so I promise to dig it out and get it up here for your entertainement.

Horny

So this is post number 69. I was thinking of telling some tale of sexy curves, erotic fantasies, leather, rubber and natural highs that drugs can't beat.

Instead I will just show you a picture of my new bike I picked up on the weekend.

If it goes quiet for a while here it is because I am off riding and having big boys toy kinda fun.

If it goes really quiet for a long time, you know I have left a greasy stain on a road somewhere.

Rest assured, if the latter happens, I had a smile on my dial right up until it was obvious it was going wrong :)