I get a feeling that I can only describe as what Heroin addicts must when the see a small packet of brown powder
Ha ha (lol-ness!)... I know exactly what you mean. It's brilliant. I actually have too many bikes for someone with no place to live (7 at present), but I love them all, and I ride them, lots, because they are all different bicyling 'flavours' for my many moods. They're beautiful little pieces of asthetic locomotive mechano, which live in doors as works of art, yet once outside get covered in mud and crap. They cause me all sorts of heartache and grief when things break and fall off them late on a Saturday night, but they have each taken me to wonderful places also. I probably never sell a single one of them ever.
But I may well yet buy more...

