So the world is supposed to end tomorrow. That's kind of a bummer because there's lots of stuff I have yet to do, and I doubt I can fit it all in (that's what she said!) by then. A lot of it is the usual: go to Paris, skydive, play in a band with a monkey keyboardist... that kind of thing.
But lots of stuff on my list comes from the stuff you see on TV and in movies that happen maybe, if you're lucky, once in a lifetime.
So here it is, folks. Here's my bucket list. And if you can accommodate me on any of these things before tomorrow's Rapture, I'd surely appreciate it.
1) This one's an obvious one. I've never gotten to hang from the landing bar of a helicopter as it pulls me away from danger. I know, why would I want to get into danger in the first place? The answer is simple: to get rescued (barely) by a helicopter. I'm also not sure if this is even possible, that I'd be able to hang onto that bar (one-handed, of course, because obviously I'd have been shot in the other arm) as it speeds away. It seems plenty difficult, but damn if I wouldn't give it a try. I suppose my buddy would have to be there too to say something helpful like, "GIVE ME YOUR HAND!" and pull me up too, or else I'd probably die. And it would be cool if there was beer on the helicopter, so we could have a bearded, bloody brew and celebrate our clandestine hijinks. (Did I mention I'd also have to be a CIA operative?)
2) I have yet to give a gorgeous blonde a passionate kiss on a rainy railway station platform and tell her I'm no good for her, Bogart-style. I'd tell her that she's better off with him and that one day she'd thank me. Then I'd plant one last zinger right on her lips, then stoically walk away, preferably to a dangerous jungle somewhere in Southeast Asia where I could be rescued by a helicopter (see above).
3) Speaking of stoically walking away, I have yet to blow something up and walk away from the explosion without looking at it. I'm not sure I could do this, either, because as I've never blown anything up, I doubt I could resist the urge to witness a massive explosion. So here's what I'm going to have to do by tomorrow: start blowing stuff up. I'm going to have to get so used to blowing stuff up, that I'll be able to blow up a truck using the ol' dropping a cigarette into the trail of leaking gasoline trick, and just know -- really know, like you know in your soul that your parents love you kind of know -- that there's gonna be an explosion, it's gonna be big, and I've seen it so much I don't even have to look anymore (also what she said). I'd walk away from it like it was nothing, like I was just headed in this direction to grab a diet Coke or something and KaBloom! The truck would be no more and I'd be looking all innocent, sipping a bubbly, icy cold beverage. But I'd know. I'd know.
4) It's hard to believe that after 32 years, I've never punched someone really hard in the face even though sooooo many people have deserved it! I think it's because my brother and I had a pact growing up that all any punches we threw at each other were to be from the shoulder down so Mom couldn't see the bruise. While I learned that a punch to the shin can be effective when someone is cowering beneath you, I've never had the full-on, bare-knuckled pleasure of decking some stupid jerk who was asking for it. So please, if you can, start being rude and obnoxious and say horrible things about my mother (you could also just be Ben Roethlisberger). Then let me punch you in the face. Thanks!
5) I have never had a super cool, Top Gun-esque high five to share with someone every time one of us does something awesome. I think I'd like to start that, even though I've apparently got less than 12 hours to develop the signature high five and start doing things which are awesome. I'd like it to be simple, but a bit more involved than the ridiculously cute snow bunnies pictured above, and not quite as complicated as something Miguel Tejada would come up with. The windmill high five would work, but it's played out. So let's get cracking, here people, time's a wastin'!
If I had to choose the order in which I'd like to do these things, I'd probably kiss the blonde, punch her boyfriend in the face, blow something up that incites a riot, get rescued by the helicopter, then give my chopper buddy our signature high five. Let me know if you can set that up.
My lips to yours.
But lots of stuff on my list comes from the stuff you see on TV and in movies that happen maybe, if you're lucky, once in a lifetime.
So here it is, folks. Here's my bucket list. And if you can accommodate me on any of these things before tomorrow's Rapture, I'd surely appreciate it.
1) This one's an obvious one. I've never gotten to hang from the landing bar of a helicopter as it pulls me away from danger. I know, why would I want to get into danger in the first place? The answer is simple: to get rescued (barely) by a helicopter. I'm also not sure if this is even possible, that I'd be able to hang onto that bar (one-handed, of course, because obviously I'd have been shot in the other arm) as it speeds away. It seems plenty difficult, but damn if I wouldn't give it a try. I suppose my buddy would have to be there too to say something helpful like, "GIVE ME YOUR HAND!" and pull me up too, or else I'd probably die. And it would be cool if there was beer on the helicopter, so we could have a bearded, bloody brew and celebrate our clandestine hijinks. (Did I mention I'd also have to be a CIA operative?)
2) I have yet to give a gorgeous blonde a passionate kiss on a rainy railway station platform and tell her I'm no good for her, Bogart-style. I'd tell her that she's better off with him and that one day she'd thank me. Then I'd plant one last zinger right on her lips, then stoically walk away, preferably to a dangerous jungle somewhere in Southeast Asia where I could be rescued by a helicopter (see above).
3) Speaking of stoically walking away, I have yet to blow something up and walk away from the explosion without looking at it. I'm not sure I could do this, either, because as I've never blown anything up, I doubt I could resist the urge to witness a massive explosion. So here's what I'm going to have to do by tomorrow: start blowing stuff up. I'm going to have to get so used to blowing stuff up, that I'll be able to blow up a truck using the ol' dropping a cigarette into the trail of leaking gasoline trick, and just know -- really know, like you know in your soul that your parents love you kind of know -- that there's gonna be an explosion, it's gonna be big, and I've seen it so much I don't even have to look anymore (also what she said). I'd walk away from it like it was nothing, like I was just headed in this direction to grab a diet Coke or something and KaBloom! The truck would be no more and I'd be looking all innocent, sipping a bubbly, icy cold beverage. But I'd know. I'd know.
4) It's hard to believe that after 32 years, I've never punched someone really hard in the face even though sooooo many people have deserved it! I think it's because my brother and I had a pact growing up that all any punches we threw at each other were to be from the shoulder down so Mom couldn't see the bruise. While I learned that a punch to the shin can be effective when someone is cowering beneath you, I've never had the full-on, bare-knuckled pleasure of decking some stupid jerk who was asking for it. So please, if you can, start being rude and obnoxious and say horrible things about my mother (you could also just be Ben Roethlisberger). Then let me punch you in the face. Thanks!
5) I have never had a super cool, Top Gun-esque high five to share with someone every time one of us does something awesome. I think I'd like to start that, even though I've apparently got less than 12 hours to develop the signature high five and start doing things which are awesome. I'd like it to be simple, but a bit more involved than the ridiculously cute snow bunnies pictured above, and not quite as complicated as something Miguel Tejada would come up with. The windmill high five would work, but it's played out. So let's get cracking, here people, time's a wastin'!
If I had to choose the order in which I'd like to do these things, I'd probably kiss the blonde, punch her boyfriend in the face, blow something up that incites a riot, get rescued by the helicopter, then give my chopper buddy our signature high five. Let me know if you can set that up.
My lips to yours.
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