Idiot meets bicycle
A few years ago (was probably 16 at the time) I'd planned to meet a few mates in the city centre for a day of shopping (or most likely arseing about as we had no money) and I decided to bike rather than take the bus.

My bike had a puncture, so I nicked my younger brother's bike, which was a bit too short, but not uncomfortably so and so I went on my way.

I soon came to learn that the brakes weren't in the best condition, which is to say they didn't work at all.

Most of the journey was uphill, so the brakes weren't really needed, but the main road into the city centre was slightly downhill. By this point I had forgotten about the brake problem and began to pick up a bit of speed, when I spied my mates. "OI! Wankers!" I shouted very wittily.

It was at this point I remembered that I needed to stop....with no brakes....on a hill, so I was only going to end up going faster if I carried on.

Panic began to set in as I saw a queue of traffic a few hundred yards ahead. "SHIT! What do I do now?!" I silently asked my brain. Brain responded with the best answer he could think of...jam your foot in between the front wheel and the forks! "Genius" thought I, "thanks brain".

The journey over the handlebars was a short one, before I knew what had happened I was laying in the road, flat on my back, which had been protected by the backpack I was wearing.

My dear friends figured that pointing and laughing was the best way to make sure I was OK (which I was) because apparently I had done a full somersault and barely avoided landing head first on the tarmac.
(porkinator is a Rock n Roll nerd!, Thu 21 Jan 2010, 14:45, Reply)