Knicked off another site.. biker stereotypes

Aquired from another site.. had to share, found some of them funny...

#1 "The Tail End Charlie"

There are two types of backmarker in today's sportsbiking packs, the slow and considerate, and the gung-ho Tail End Charlie. It is he who we shall concentrate on.

Back of the group not through choice, but through slower riding, Charlie is no less dangerous than the nutters at the front. Always aboard one of the fastest bikes in the pack, he's just as capable of opening the throttle as the front runners - he may even open it further and more often. Just not in the right places. Treats the central division as a guideline, because he once heard a fast bloke describe "using all the road". Unwittingly relies on the oncoming traffic to avoid his out-of-control mid-corner wobbles or suicidal on-the-rev-limiter 120mph overtakes.
There's no disguising his fear of the 150bhp rocket he bought at the start of summer. Alternately scaring himself then complimenting himself, he's acutely aware of his own weaknesses and fears - hence the impenetrable bluster whenever matters of speed or safety enter the conversation. Thinks advanced training is for 'pooftahs'. Always full of improbable tales, none of which can be ascertained as truthful because he's always been left on his own. Loves telling tales of defeating rep-mobiles like Imprezas, Golf GTis and Civic Type-Rs. Incapable of passing a shop-window without looking at his own reflection.

#2 "Mid-Pack Man"

Mid-Pack Man can be found in the middle of any fast sportsbike 'rideout'. He makes up the rank and file of any of these mass excursions, generally riding a mid-to-late machine well within its capabilities, and mostly his own.

Occasionally keeps up with the Nutter at the Front, but has learned to both fear and cherish those fleeting moments of Mach 3 riding. Has some idea of his own mortality, and a good idea of his own ability. Declares most slow riders to be "happy at their own pace", despite the fact he's quite obviously not happy with his. Secretly attends advanced riding courses in an effort to pick up a few places mid-pack. But the only thing the white-haired ex-copper (booted off the force for a misdemeanour involving three lbs of raspberry jelly, a cigar and the Chief Constable's Mrs) actually teaches him is to expect danger around every corner and to always be able to stop within his line-of-sight. This makes him slower at first, then more scared than ever when he keeps up with the Nutter at the Front. Has got the hang of using all of the road. Prefers not to overtake on double white lines, but will do so if riding in a group. Somehow it seems 'safer'. More than happy to shut the loud valve after 100mph, he still likes the odd blast up to 140-ish, but unlike Tail-End Charlie prefers to do it when nobody's watching. Incapable of passing a shop-window without looking at his own reflection

#3 "The Nutter at the Front"

Wearing his scarred leathers with a vague sense of pride, The Nutter at the Front thinks nothing of riding a bike held together with lockwire, gaffa tape and spit.

Always found near the front of the pack, he's never quite sure why the other folk can't keep up. Is acutely colour-blind and as self-centred as a gyroscope. Incapable of slowing down at an amber light, he can never quite spot those pesky double white lines either.
Generally rides fast enough so that he doesn't need mirrors. When somebody does overtake him, he treats it as a blood insult. Half because of the surprise, half because of his well-hidden, yet capacious, ego. Is always the first bloke to recommend you fit sensible tyres, yet always the first bloke in the queue for a set of Supercorsas. Is vaguely aware that he could die on a bike. Prefers not to think that way. He's also scared about 150mph. Not because he finds it too fast, or even upsetting: he's worried because it feels so slow.
Occasionally gets overtaken by a Mid-Pack Man when mentally compiling his ebay shopping lists. He's got a Saved Search for body panels for his bike, emailed to him every week. Incapable of passing a shop-window without looking at his own reflection.

The Reporter in our Midst {TRIOM}
Always wants to lead the pack (fancies himself as The Nutter at the Front {TNATF}).
Doesn’t know the route, but blasts ahead as soon as he sees there are no turn-offs, then waits impatiently for TNATF to resume the lead and show which direction to go next.
Always turns up on some brand new top of the range hooligan bike, NEVER on his own lowly middle of the range 5 year old model (just in case).
Pops wheelies and stoppies and KDs as often as possible, to show off his superior skills. This often upsets the Mid Pack Man {MPM}, but TRIOM regards him as a lesser being and expects him to move out of the way/slow down for his skilful displays. TNATF often gets ****ed off at this as TRIOM is messing with the members of HIS pack and will:
a) Pull even bigger stunts to put TRIOM back in his place.
b) Back off thinking that this bugger is just dangerous and is looking for a new story of his courageous exploits for later publication.
TRIOM Burns out rear tyres as soon as the majority of the group can see (he’s not paying for the new rubber, is he?).
TRIOM uses ‘artistic license’ to embellish the events of the ride to turn an average~good rideout into a full-on hooligan meet (well, a man of his skills wouldn’t attend anything less – would he?).

IS capable of passing a shop-window without looking at his own reflection as his favourite lensman is guaranteed to get his ‘best side’ into at least one of the shots to be used in future publication.


The London Courier
Chances are if the bikes been built, this guy has despatched it. Gixer11's held together with gaffa, Blackbirds with road rash pinstriping, assorted CX500's, CB250's, VT500's, GT550 & 750's, and the top box he's had for the last 5 years with asssorted stickers, labels and old courier companies logos stuck to the yellowing plastic top box. He never nods to any other bikers, for obvious reasons given the amount of other bikers he sees in the city every single day, and what's the point anyway?.

He hates taxis, buses, taxi's, lorries, cars, and taxis he has no respect for his life, the life of any other road users, the lives of pedestrians, the highway code, or any other code. He has a collection of bikes, damaged repairables, part bikes, boxes of spares he's collected over the years often spread liberally about the kitchen or garage. He usually has many stories about how he nearly got iced or got away with not being caught by plod on several occasions, he lives in a world where car wing mirrors are used as a distance guide to how close he is to the car he over(under)taking, or the mirror has been taken as a trophy from the last **** that almost "'ad 'im off the bike". His communication skills are highly advanced and has evolved to the point where shouting is no longer of use and has mostly been replaced with various levels of criminal damage to vehicles and obscene hand gesturing.

He knows Greater London and surrounding areas inside-out, including speed camera and red light camera locations. Pavements are the non-motorway hard shoulder and should only be used in a congestion emergency, keep left signs are for everyone else, and no entry signs only apply if plod is watching. Shiney sports bikes don't impress him, because he knows that any road with a bit of traffic and he could leave them in his dust on his old CB250, or CX500 with the minimum of effort.

For recreational activity, his interests almost always revolves around bikes, but that's as far as it can be categoriesed. Some of the breed can be seen at Grebo rallies on their survivalist GT550's with green camo netting on the tank and freshly killed furry seat covers, along with various Ted Nugent slogans. Other members of the breed can be found singles racing, or simply down the pub with his mates.

Very good but rings a bit familiar was this not in one of the bike mags a few years back?