Wherever a group of bikers gather the name of Rob Dymond will be mentioned. 

"Where the fuck has Rob got to?" one biker will ask. Another will make the sacred response, "I don't know - he was miles behind last time I saw him". A third biker will scan the horizon for the tell-tale ginger glow that precedes Mr Dymond. 

Eventually Rob will appear, locked in a vicious race to the death with a milk float. Two minutes later the previously gathered bikers will wonder why they bothered waiting. 

Away from the worries of having to ride a bike and safely ensconced in ukrm one could almost mistake Rob for a real person. His quick wit and lack of anything better to do make his name a regular occurrence in the ukrm message list. Those scanning through his 3,000 daily posts take comfort in the fact that at least he is tucked away in Derbyshire, which is a long way away. 

Some fear that, one day, Mr Dymond will find himself a tolerant young lady and the flood that is a ukrm download will slow to a trickle. Others, with more foresight, fear that, one day, Mr Dymond will find himself a tolerant young lady and _breed_!!! 

Let it be known that Rob Dymond is the Anti-Bear and his number is 999. If you see him then run in fear or protect yourself with the Holy Pushrods.