Normally, this is a claim reserved only for super heroes and disc jockeys, but last night I managed to avoid killing myself and my wonderful wife (on her birthday, no less) thanks to my time gaming with force feedback steering wheels.
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Driving home from a lovely day out my car conspired with the roads around rural Bath to try and murder us. It had been raining almost all day, that kind of fine mist that makes you question whether you're hanging out in a cloud, or if the sky's actually dropping liquid. And that made one particular corner I was driving around a nightmare combination of greasy, rain-slicked surface and liberally scattered leafy residue.