Life is pretty damn scary. News headlines read like horror movie synopses these days. You could be going for a casual stroll around the block, when a knife falls out of the sky and into your head. Even our day to day social interactions can be fraught with peril. Given the inherently risky, unpredictable, and often frightening nature of our everyday reality, I have always been utterly mystified by the fact that crazy people (such as myself) pay lots of money to deliberately put themselves into uncomfortable, and even terrifying situations at “amusement” parks.
It’s not as if they don’t warn you about what you’re getting yourself into. When rides are given names like The Apocalypse, Mind Eraser, Piranha Pandemonium, Shark Attack Hammerhead, No Way Out, and Tower of Terror, you only have yourself to blame for the suffering you endure when you elect to go on them.
Inspired by these names, my husband started gleefully tossing out ideas for other names of rides that had a similarly masochistic ring to them…Rides like: Do It Yourself Circumcision, Pass-a-Kidney-Stone-o-Rama, Red Hot Poker Up Your Ass, or Sulphuric Enema.
I duly noted these ideas down in the “Notes” app on my iPhone. A few days later a new Note appeared on my phone from my fourteen year old.
“Do It Yourself Circumcision, Mom? You know I can totally read your notes on my computer, right?”
Talk about uncomfortable experiences…
o wonderful, wonderful 