As well as dropping from the top to the bottom of B-grade, I acknowledge dropping my commitment to you, my dear rusted on readers. Take heart though, our mid life crises will come back to the boil in due course I assure you, with much nonsensical lusting for pedal powered devices. Without being unnecessarily boastful though, may I briefly explain, that I have been extraordinarily busy, escorting my mignons to marbles everywhere from Delphi to Pisa, then arranging our head-of-state’s diary, and most recently informing representatives from dozens of local councils that they should construct dirt jumps beside cycleways—the uncanny thing about that little talk, was that people actually listened. Yes, I have been cavorting with the self-important, eating water-muffalo monsterella in Rome, and Oysters Naturale along Australia’s East Coast, and not sparing you dumb rusted on… I mean, you intelligent gentlemen… I mean… it’s my blog to let rot if I choose, is it not? 
