It’s officially summer time, and that means lots of things, like going to the beach, or drinking too many beers in the hot sun and almost passing out from dehydration. And for some people, it means going to amusement parks.
I take in the occasional trip to those Lands Of Fun, and yeah, I have some Amusement.
And if you’re lucky enough (or famous enough) to accompany me on a trip to one of these places, you will always know where to find me.
On the ground.
No roller coasters for me, thank you very much.
I’ve tried them, okay?
I’ve tried strapping myself into a tiny box of metal and being hurled through the air like some kind of fucking idiot and it turns out that it’s just not for me.
Whenever my friends and I have gone to an amusement park, I am the one standing at the bottom, holding all the women’s purses, waving to everyone and thinking to myself, “Well, I hope they don’t die because we’ve had some fun times together.”
Of course you can try to peer pressure me into getting on one, but it won’t work. This may surprise some of you, but I tend to be a little Set In My Ways.
But don’t let me stop you from tempting the cold hand of death. Have at it!
You go ahead and place your life in the hands of a single metal bar across your lap. It seems very likely that it will keep you from flying to your death and making me have to call your parents.
I’m sure that pimple-faced kid with the voice that cracked whose Mom took him and his girlfriend to the movies last night is going to be completely responsible handling the controls of the coaster.
It will be great and you should really go.
Yes, you can play a duck or two after you’re done, but that’s assuming that you will live through your Ride Of Death, and I don’t think we should make those kind of assumptions.