On Wednesday 16 August 2006 18:29, [email hidden]
[[email hidden]] wrote in message
<[email hidden]>
Quoted message said:What about all of you?
When I was about 11 I had spent an evening round at a friend's house (he was
also 11, us both being classmates) and we'd been doodling and the doodles
turned into penises as things do at that age. These penises were
disembodied and chased cyclists, only being fended off by brightly glowing
dynamo rear lights of a particular brand (which we both had at that time).
Ah, the magic of childhood!
The terror as I started to cycle away from his completely dark house late
that night[1] is indescribable. I was absolutely certain I was a goner if I
couldn't get my dynamo lights glowing brightly enough before the penises
got me.
I pedalled furiously down his drive in blackness then saw to my horror, in
the growing brightness of my headlight, the approaching form of a closed
black metal gate barring my way.
CRASH! SNAP!
For several years I was physically unable to tell anyone how I broke my
forks.
[1] It was 1981 and in the countryside, a time when young children were
allowed to play on railways and the seatbelt law had not yet come into
force, talking to strangers was still ok and cars were narrow enough to fit
past cyclists on a busy A road.