I’m Not Sure How To Tell If These Turned Out Badly
I mean, first you chug that cough elixir that doesn’t cure coughs, and then you ride a bike off a cliff. If you fall down, is that bad? If you slide down a moraine on your face instead of on your wheels, I figure there’s more entertainment value in it.
I’m all for the democratization of athletics, of course. We all cant have a big, flat lawn with stripes on it every five yards, and find twenty-one friends to knock heads on it every Sunday. Half your friends might, oh, I don’t know, ride their bikes off cliffs while looped on Red Bull on Saturday, and be unavailable to run the hook and ladder with you on Sunday. So the ability to turn a paper route that doesn’t deliver papers into a sport is good for the soul, I think. Especially when you do that Roadrunner/Coyote thing, hanging in midair for a few seconds before the scintillating gravel pizza finish. Love it.
(Thanks to Gerard at American Digest for sending that one along. He’s old fashioned. He doesn’t drink Red Bull. He drinks coffee, and, well, Old-Fashioneds)