Chief Longwind Of The North
Certified/Certifiable
I'm gonna throw in something really different, just to shake things up a bit.
I love the satisfaction of nailing a horse fly that's been pestering me while I'm trying to catch fish.
I love the shriek of any of my children when ice water dumped over the shower curtain connects with them.
I loved getting out in front of my buddies when we raced through muddy swamps on our dirt bikes, knowing they were getting drenched with wet muck.
I loved the satsifying thump of an oppnant on the mat after a perfectly executed Judo throw, especially Horiah Goshi.
I love flying down a steep, snow covered hill, with only the thicknes of a plastic tobbogan between me and the snow, even when I crash and tumble for half the hill's lenth.
I loved riding in a Navy Jet (S-3A, Viking), and the pilot doing acrobatics.
I love F14 Tomcats doing supersonic fly-overs, breaking the sound berrier 200 feet up from the deck, and then pointing the nose straight up with full afterburners. The raw power of those twin engines is staggering.
I love turning the hose on anybody foolish enough to be in the yard with me while I'm watering anything.
I love taking corners at unsafe speeds on a great motorcycle.
I love tickling my cat's belly, and getting him to claw and bite me because I'm faster than he is and he gets so frustrated.
I love the many posts on this thread.
I love stirring the pot, so to speak.
I love a good adrenaline rush.
I love extraordinary music, of any type, and usually, the more odd it is, the better I like it. Think bands like "Yes", "Emerson, Lake, & Palmer", Rush, Pat Mathini, Bobby Darin (Mac The Knife), and the list goes on.
I love great jazz.
I love music that starts strong. Think of songs like "Jet City Woman", "It's Been Such A Long Time", Beetoven's Fifth", "The Tocata Fuge in D Minor", "Eruption" etc.
I love the flavor of clover honey and butter on toast. I love Buckwheat Honey on Pancakes, I love Grade-B Maple Syrup.
I love cheddar cheese so sharp, it almost curls your toes, and it definitely makes your jaw muscles ache when you first bite into it.
I hate vulgarity, and vulgar humor. It really turns me off.
I loved riding an aluminum flying saucer, connected by a 20 foot rope, to a very fast snowmobile and sizzling accross a snow-crust covered field at about 75 MPH.
I used to love the free-fall I'd get from jumping off of a 30 foot cliff to the bottom of the sand-pit, where I'd tuck and roll the landing.
I love the exhilleration of placing ten arrows into a 3 inch square target from 50 yards.
I loved that my son couldn't draw my bow until he reached the age of 19, and couldn't draw it easily until he reached 25.
I love riding nimble motorcycles.
I loved it when my body was 20 and I could ride dirt bikes up amaziningly difficult hills in Southern Callifornia.
I loved too much the acceleration of a Honda 650, where I traveled from 0 to 120 so quickly and smoothly that I had no idea how fast I was going until I looked away from the tach and speedometer, and the cars that were supposed to be traveling in the same direction, seemed like they were comming toward me, and they were doing 55 mph. Of course I backed down to the speed limit and knew I could never own such a machine as I would get myself into too much trouble. Speed is addictive, or rather, acceleration is addictive.
I love taking my glasses off just before going to bed.
That's all for now.
Seeeeeya; Goodweed of the North
I love the satisfaction of nailing a horse fly that's been pestering me while I'm trying to catch fish.
I love the shriek of any of my children when ice water dumped over the shower curtain connects with them.
I loved getting out in front of my buddies when we raced through muddy swamps on our dirt bikes, knowing they were getting drenched with wet muck.
I loved the satsifying thump of an oppnant on the mat after a perfectly executed Judo throw, especially Horiah Goshi.
I love flying down a steep, snow covered hill, with only the thicknes of a plastic tobbogan between me and the snow, even when I crash and tumble for half the hill's lenth.
I loved riding in a Navy Jet (S-3A, Viking), and the pilot doing acrobatics.
I love F14 Tomcats doing supersonic fly-overs, breaking the sound berrier 200 feet up from the deck, and then pointing the nose straight up with full afterburners. The raw power of those twin engines is staggering.
I love turning the hose on anybody foolish enough to be in the yard with me while I'm watering anything.
I love taking corners at unsafe speeds on a great motorcycle.
I love tickling my cat's belly, and getting him to claw and bite me because I'm faster than he is and he gets so frustrated.
I love the many posts on this thread.
I love stirring the pot, so to speak.
I love a good adrenaline rush.
I love extraordinary music, of any type, and usually, the more odd it is, the better I like it. Think bands like "Yes", "Emerson, Lake, & Palmer", Rush, Pat Mathini, Bobby Darin (Mac The Knife), and the list goes on.
I love great jazz.
I love music that starts strong. Think of songs like "Jet City Woman", "It's Been Such A Long Time", Beetoven's Fifth", "The Tocata Fuge in D Minor", "Eruption" etc.
I love the flavor of clover honey and butter on toast. I love Buckwheat Honey on Pancakes, I love Grade-B Maple Syrup.
I love cheddar cheese so sharp, it almost curls your toes, and it definitely makes your jaw muscles ache when you first bite into it.
I hate vulgarity, and vulgar humor. It really turns me off.
I loved riding an aluminum flying saucer, connected by a 20 foot rope, to a very fast snowmobile and sizzling accross a snow-crust covered field at about 75 MPH.
I used to love the free-fall I'd get from jumping off of a 30 foot cliff to the bottom of the sand-pit, where I'd tuck and roll the landing.
I love the exhilleration of placing ten arrows into a 3 inch square target from 50 yards.
I loved that my son couldn't draw my bow until he reached the age of 19, and couldn't draw it easily until he reached 25.
I love riding nimble motorcycles.
I loved it when my body was 20 and I could ride dirt bikes up amaziningly difficult hills in Southern Callifornia.
I loved too much the acceleration of a Honda 650, where I traveled from 0 to 120 so quickly and smoothly that I had no idea how fast I was going until I looked away from the tach and speedometer, and the cars that were supposed to be traveling in the same direction, seemed like they were comming toward me, and they were doing 55 mph. Of course I backed down to the speed limit and knew I could never own such a machine as I would get myself into too much trouble. Speed is addictive, or rather, acceleration is addictive.
I love taking my glasses off just before going to bed.
That's all for now.
Seeeeeya; Goodweed of the North
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