There I am this morning on the bike again (not speeding this time I hasten to add) with Mrs B2N on the back. Enjoying a quick blast on the M25 to the outlaws. In the outside lane, happily motoring along when my riding ability and the balance of my bint riding pillion were tested to the fullest. A young chav in his saxo/nova/fiesta go faster thinngy (with all of gucci kit that could be collected from a super market sweep stylee ram raid bolted onto it) decided to change lanes without even the use of a mirror. For the briefest of moments I was captivated by his use of telepathy and foresight, for he instinctively knew that me an my bike would brake hard and swerve, amazing. As the traffic slowed, I pulled along side this Zen master to compliment him on his obvious mind powers and also ask him if he'd like to pull over onto the hard shoulder to dicuss his apparent views on existentialism during some impromptu milling. Sadly he declined but then demonstrated another astonishing skill of communication through sign language (which thinking about it, reminded me of the 'paper, scissors or stone' game, if a small problem with his scissors orientation). I now started to get worried, as this 'miracle' had decided that he longer wished to be in my presence and with the speed of thousand gazzelles left, only to sucked into the traffic jam ahead. I sense my time had come, now I had captive audience, so to speak, I wanted to show him I shared his talents for verbal, mental and physical communication, unfortunatley another bike behind me was also wishing to speak to this 'gentlemen,' can you believe this plank had managed to upset two bikers in one morning? The problem was, this biker was an ape of a man, displaying none of the gentle tones which I had so far exemplified. He simply kicked a massive foot print into the side of the Chav's door. The force of the kick was something to behold, it was so fearce that the plethora of go faster bits and bobs left a trail of debris that would lead any air crash investigator to conclude that a small (chav) plane had crashed. Laughed, I nearly swamped myself.