December 29, 2003
This is one beautiful post.
I did suicidal shit like that as a boy and I sometimes wonder why I didn't die young. I suppose that I really WAS bulletproof in those days.
[QUOTE]I did shit like that as a boy and I sometimes wonder why I didn't die young.[/QUOTE]
I know you were an English major and all that, because I read your blog (because, well, I get a kick out of it). Did you look at this sentence? Because I sure didn't read it the way you meant it the first time. Took me a minute and the followup to the link. Heh.
Okay... post edited somewhat. Is it better now?
In my bullet proof, invisible, ten-foot tall teens, we used to get a car hood out of the junk yard and tow it behind a car. Plowed, icy roads made perfect chutes with the banks high, trying to get the damned thing airborn slaloming back and forth. Fond memories of how many we could get on one hood and how fast we could pull it. Stopping was a little tricky. Just plain stupid, but great fun!!
Hey asshole call me 6786873460 .I finalized the divorce today, I don't "feel" so good. I got my wild turkey and smokes and "need" to hear your words of wisdom.
The Flexible Racer was a suicide machine. Kevorkian couldn't have built a better one. I rode one twice in one day when I had 17 years on and should have known better. The first ride was familiarization, but I overlooked learning how to brake. The second ride was down a two block downhill alley, with a 90 degree turn in it and exiting onto a busy street.
I broadied the turn well, but then realized I was going to shoot out into traffic. I sat up and used my feet to slow down. I was barefoot, and didn't walk for a week, and had to wear shoes for a month.
I have become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.