Marge: If Milhouse jumped off a cliff...
Bart: Milhouse jumped off a cliff?! I'm there!
Mmm...logic.
is a master at baiting me into dumbass dares
ok, call me juvenile if you must, but that brings a whole slew of bad middle school jokes to mind.
You know, I've taken a number of dumbass dares in my day (I once ate half a salt shaker's worth of alt in five minutes on a bet, I've dropped trou in public more times than I can count, etc.), but I can't imagine taking the one you describe. Did you have to land with the same leg?
It's always odd when you notice your brain doing something outside your consciousness. To me, that's what this sounds like. Doing something that your dont-eat-all-that-salt cortex is opposed to is different from doing something that your dont-jump-off-cliffs nucleus dislikes. I suspect the latter's a lot older and weirder.
The relevant neuroanatomy is a lot older, that is. Although I suspect that the institution of jumping off of cliffs is pretty old, too.
ell, I jumped out of an airplane once, and I still can't imagine doing what you're decribing. Gives me the willies.
Wow. That's funny. I totally forgot about that. What made you think of that?
That actually reminds me of the time one summer when it was 100 plus degress outside and we went into our car where it was even more stifling and we made a bet to see who would give out first after we turned on the heater in the car on high. If my recollection serves, I think we both quit at the same time after about five minutes. That was you right?
... and that was how "parkour" was invented, but will they give you the credit? bastard Frenchies.
What I remember about that afternoon too was that, after each unsuccessful attempt to even try to jump we were laughing our asses off because we were acutely aware of whatever that thing is in the back of your brain that was keeping our feet glued to the gym. It was almost like we were observing two different parts of our brain duking it out, one side saying, "cmon you can do it" and the other saying "being paralyzed would really suck".
Did you just eat a madeline or something?
..with the windows rolled up of course.
If only you'd both been eating beans all day.
If only he had worked Proust into a cock joke, 11 would have been golden.
It's always odd when you notice your brain doing something outside your consciousness.
It's kind of a neat phenomenon, because the brain seems to take over, bypassing all logic circuits. One example that cog sci types have been batting around is the phenomenon of momentarily feeling scared of falling while safely inside a glass-walled room in a high skyscraper.
You don't believe you're in danger, but your brain just ain't buying it and is sure that it knows better.
In that big tower in Toronto there's a section of clear glass floor on one of the observation decks and though they tell you it can withstand the weight of multiple hippos most people still set foot on it tentatively, if they do so at all.
I have trouble walking on glass walkways of any kind. Foot bridges used to be a problem, too, until I realized how much cheaper parking at Heinz Field was than parking in downtown Pittsburgh.
My brain is clearly a neurotic little bitch.
"In that big tower in Toronto there's a section of clear glass floor on one of the observation decks and though they tell you it can withstand the weight of multiple hippos most people still set foot on it tentatively, if they do so at all."
Under certain conditions, lake ice freezes transparent, smooth, and invisible. It's like walking on water, and a weird greenish light comes up from below. Hard to get used to.
how much cheaper parking at Heinz Field was than parking in downtown Pittsburgh
Wait, do you have this backwards? And if not, since when? And in any case, you go to Heinz Field regularly? I've been once or twice, but are you made or something?
I took this to mean that she works in downtown Pittsburgh and on non-game workdays it's cheap to park in the lots at Heinz Field and walk across the bridge to downtown.
$3 a day in the stadium lot. $15 a day in the garage at PPG One.
OK, that makes sense. I was thinking of $5 nighttime parking downtown vs. God knows how much in the lots at the game.
I've been to Heinz Field once or twice! For a football game! Nyah nyah!
Maybe fear of humiliation is just a stronger force than anticipated accomplishment.
Totally. I jumped off of the apocryphal cliff as a result. It was totally safe - the water was deep, and I'd just seen several others go over safely - but I was terrified, and had decided to live down the shame of backing out. But there were attractive women in the group, and, in the end, I decided it was better to be crippled for life than to embarrass myself in front of them. Needless to say, all three ended up hooking-up with "friends" of mine.
I didn't know what "parkour" was, but check out these clips (hover over the pictures). Holy crow. I think this guy wouldn't have had any trouble jumping.
All right, punk. Right now.
Shall we say $20 to the favorite charity of the winner (mine's the IRC) based on whose team has the best record at the end of the season?
Unfogged does not condone wagering, and hopes both bettors lose.
Then I guess it'll have to pistols at dawn.
Oy, this is reminding me of the time I almost went canyoning. I was an English teacher at a camp in Southern Spain, and I didn't even know the English word for canyoning (they called it barranquismo or something), and my Dutch partner told me you just jumped off some cliffs, and somehow I got the impression I could sit around and watch the kids and only try it if I worked up the nerve. Well, when I got to the first cliff, all wetsuited, and realized that one jump meant know going back, and looked down the first (and easiest) ten foot jump into the water and the quite visible rocks below (if only the Guadalquivir weren't such a transparent river...), I balked. I had three camp counselors and a bunch of nine year olds yelling at me in Spanish to stop being such a weenie, to quit holding everyone up, etc., and I was like, uh, no quiero hacerlo. Ni un poco. I respond very poorly to pressure, and much better to coaxing. So I marched back up the mountain and had to sit in my wetsuit in Southern Spain in late July for two hours while I waited for the kids to come back, entertaining myself by singing showtunes. Then the next day, the head counselor introduced me to the breakfast room by saying, "Un aplauso para Tia, la heroina del barranquismo," everyone clapped, and I started to cry. I think since I never had the experience of being a kid at camp, I had to approximate it as an English teacher. If only I had hooked up with Pocholo, the experience would have been complete.
27: Deal. Mine's the IRC, too. Though I'm thinking, since you're talking smack, that we should base the wager on who had the best record at the end of last season. (Was Minnesota one of those punk-ass teams that made the playoffs at 8-8? I forget.)
Yeah, Minnesota kinda fell apart last year. That's what makes the bet interesting. Alright, January whatever it is (if not determined beforehand) one of us'll shoot an extra S20 to the IRC. There will be gloating and taunting as well.