The problem with always reaching for that ever-greater adrenaline rush, like any addiction - is that you build up a tolerance. What would've given you ridiculous buzz a few years ago might only spout a shruggy 'meh...' today.
And so, rollercoasters just don't generate that 'whoop whoop' in the stomach anymore. I guess it hasn't since Cousin Albert and I sat on the rollercoaster at Ocean Park discussing Buffy during the loops. It's a shame, coz I live for the whoop.
From bungee jumps comes the next logical step: skydiving. And as soon as they make spacediving a reality - you know I'm gonna be all over that. Even if it does happen when I'm 142yrs old.
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