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So some Sloane ranger type in a convertible Golf decided to knock me off my bike on the way home tuesday night, right outside of the Notting Hill Arts Club (for all you London fans). No broken bones or bad cuts, I just went for a nice slide along the road on my arse, with my bike still attached to my shoes. Thank god for Cordura dirt jumping shorts, had i been wearing just lycra there would have been a lovely smear of 'me meat' along the road I can just about walk but my arse looks like this:

Any bike accident that you can hobble away from is a good one - remember those helmets kids!