(no subject)
Before I have a cardiac arrest thanks to my mind recalling deadlines and assignments very vaguely, or before I start sleeping on benches at public parks and eating out of dustbins thanks to the blues that won't go away, I'd like to do a social experiment (or strange jobs) once again. It's been a long long time since the last one.
Last night, the three of us overestimated our courage and the physical condition of our hearts, and chose what could be named the Swing of Doom For Pussies. Oh sure, it looked very Amelie Poulain, except that instead of Yann Tiersen, there was Black Eyed Peas blaring out of the aesthetically beautiful contraption that betrayed a potentially murderous nature. Flimsy-feeling chairs aside, I ended up shouting madly during the entire duration of the ride, thinking I was going to end up paralysed, smashed to smithereens (against a dangerously close neon billboard that shouted "SKY RIDER", and a tree), or dead. One of us cried a manly tear.
I'd totally take it again.
Last night, the three of us overestimated our courage and the physical condition of our hearts, and chose what could be named the Swing of Doom For Pussies. Oh sure, it looked very Amelie Poulain, except that instead of Yann Tiersen, there was Black Eyed Peas blaring out of the aesthetically beautiful contraption that betrayed a potentially murderous nature. Flimsy-feeling chairs aside, I ended up shouting madly during the entire duration of the ride, thinking I was going to end up paralysed, smashed to smithereens (against a dangerously close neon billboard that shouted "SKY RIDER", and a tree), or dead. One of us cried a manly tear.
I'd totally take it again.