Rollercoasters.

Why rollercoasters?

Angel22 sent me a silly quiz all about rollercoasters. Your answers were supposed to indicate some sort of Freudian sexuality thing. But it got me thinking, what have my previous experiences with rollercoasters been like? (And no, the following does NOT correlate with my attitudes to sex or sexual history!)

I'm a bit of a wimp when it comes to things that go very fast and turn me upside down. I've tended to avoid them when I can. If the relevant deities saw fit for me to be upside down, they would have equipped me for it.

Anyway, I had a bit of a crisis a couple of years ago and adjourned to a relative's holiday house on the Gold Coast (the equivalent of Florida) for a couple of weeks to sort my head out. The Gold Coast is full of theme parks and the like. My baby brother challenged me to ride some of the rollercoasters while I was up there.

He challenged me. How could I resist?

My first point of call was Dreamworld. It has a rollercoaster thoughtfully dubbed The Thunderbolt. Twin loops, not much else. It took me a couple of attempts to get on. I chickened out several times. But finally I was on, second from the front.

Eeep...

Ka-CHUNK, ka-CHUNK, ka-CHUNK, they dragged the carriages up to the top and released us.

Into absolute hell.

I don't remember much. I spent most of it screaming my lungs out with my eyes squinched shut while I was rattled and banged around in the carriage.

Dreamworld very kindly offers a photography service on The Thunderbolt. At the bottom of the first loop, they take your picture. The two girls in front of me were aware of this and posed, waving and smiling attractively. Behind them was something that made Munch's The Scream look like a beauty pageant winner...

I declined a copy of the photo.

But I had done it. I had conquered my fear. It was completely horrid, but I had ridden a rollercoaster all by myself. Even upside down! I was feeling cocky. Next stop? Seaworld. The Corkscrew.

As you may have guessed, The Corkscrew has a corkscrewy bit in it. I queued up, didn't chicken out and hopped onboard. It was... pleasant. I only screamed a little. I even had my eyes open a bit. I EVEN considered going on again.

I was getting good at this rollercoaster lark.

I was feeling pretty confident.

Only one more challenge faced me. Warner Bros Movieworld.

Lethal Weapon-The Ride.

That should have been my first clue.

But I had mastered The Thunderbolt AND The Corkscrew. I wasn't going to let a bad Mel Gibson spinoff bring me down...

Hmmm, no carriages this time. You hang, in a harness type arrangement from a track above your head. Your feet dangle in the air...

But I had mastered The Thunderbolt AND The Corkscrew. I could do this.

I settled into my harness and held on tight. They dragged us up the first incline. I looked down. Holy Mary Mother of God... Panic started to set in. I looked out across the view. Much nicer, much more soothing, quite pretty actua...

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The eyes were squinched shut and I screamed like rats were biting into my naked flesh. I was like washing on the spin cycle. I had no idea which way was up. I opened my eyes. I looked between my feet.

A bird lazily flapped past...

That couldn't be good.

I squinched my eyes shut again until I thought I was upright again. I peeked. To my right was the ground.

Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad...

The eyes stayed squinched and the screams continued until we came to an abrupt halt.

I peeked.

I was right way up.

I wasn't moving at high speed.

I was going to be ill.

The girl seated next to me looked at me like I was a psycho with a knife. Screaming for that long at that pitch will do that to a person, I suppose.

I can now say, with great authority, that rollercoasters suck. Like Hoovers. And I won't be going on one ever, ever again.

And that has nothing to do with my sex life. ;>