Friday, August 29, 2014
When I was seven, my dad took me to Disneyland. What he didn't know, was that I'm a big ol' baby when it comes to stuff like rides and carousels, and I refused to go on most on them - what an ungrateful child, hah. Fifteen years later, a few of my friends managed to trick me up into the hellish invention pictured above, and I've got a vague memory of seeing ALL of London from above, while crying and screaming. But for some reason, I'm concidering to give it another try. I don't know if it's because I'm older or braver, or older and dumber, with a mid-life crisis. Writing this and thinking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach, so I probaly wont do it. I might just have a cup of tea instead.