Well, since I am dying,
This QOTW is sort of a QOML just lately. Yes, yes, we're all dying, and it's not like I'm going quickly but probably faster than you. I enjoy a bizarre autoimmune illness that has tons of inconvenient symptoms which if graphed over the last five years shows a solid downward trend and when projected futurewards gives me a few (3 or 4 maybe) years yet, except that I'm just now entering the more titillating area where sudden oddball flare-ups and infection (pneumonia etc) could do for me very suddenly. Let's just take a moment to feel for my wife in all of this. OK, that's the sad bit done. Could be worse, of course. There could be kids, and all that.

Oh a btw, it's not AIDS; the best and closest diagnostic fit to date is an extreme version of the gorgeously named Scleredema Adultorum of Buschke. It features neither sclerosis nor edema and occurs more frequently in under-25s. Go figure.

To quote Michael Fox re his Parkinson's, "it's a gift". This pissed people off when he said it so he clarified; "It's the gift....that keeps on taking." So now you're expecting all the usual pseudo-enlightenment claptrap about the 'little things', carpe diem and the poignancy of weather, I'll prick that bubble, nurse, and just say two things. Or rather shovel out two categories.

1) All the little things that you lose along the way; they're in fact worse than you thought they were going to be viewed through the usual overly-optimistic way we tend to think about our *own* mortality when confronted with an adverse (if mysterious) prognosis. I knew I'd miss eating when I got the PEG tube, but what I didn't know is that every now and then I'd be assailed by fiendishly powerful cravings for foods I have not only never eaten, but would probably not even have previously liked. Like an open rye bread sandwich with cheese (I think Jarlsberg), caviar, and boiled egg. Yes, I read that Stieg Larssen book. But I also get foody flashes from nowhere. I'd also love to be able to julienne a carrot with my big-arse chef's knife like I used to, even if it's just for a salad for my beloved, and I didn't realise I'd miss doing that when my hands got to the point where it's a hard and dangerous chore, not a joy.

2) So the second category is really just the first, but projected forward. I can no longer enjoy the dream of a four-day ride to the Top End (Aus) on a Moto Guzzi that I'll now never own because I can't ride any more, and this is a thing that's not coming back. You get the idea.

So what is it I really want to *do* before I die? Here's the thing, I already do it, and I shall do a whole bunch more.

Nothing.

Nothing sneaks up on you as a joy. It can happen when you realise for example that you get truly over the losses you incur, and the sense of release and relief when that truth really hits you - you've *changed* - sweeps your feet from beneath you and then just as suddenly leaves you standing in.....nothing. From there, all else seems like part of your nothing too.

Having the mind at zero, as the ho'oponopono guy put it.

This isn't some salve to the ego, or 'make the best of what you can' scenario, where *of course* I go for some sort of spiritual contentment because my future promises to rob me of all the practical or physical possibilities. Or because of the futility of trying to do what one still can while one still can. Nope, beyond all that stuff, this is sincerely a joyous place to be, in nothing, and makes *being* all the more glorious. I'd only known this a few times prior to the last few years. So yes, it's a fucking awesome blessing, and I'll eat this cake too, thanks very much.

So that's what I want, really. Not much, but the meat-ego is at work here too - I want *all* those little things to piss off into nothingness, because for real - you *do* know what you've got before it goes, with a little practice at losing things, and after a time the grief ceases being a lesson or in any way therapeutic. This, too, shall come to nothing. I hope.

Here endeth the lesson. Cheers.
(dadadali has hybrid vigour, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 14:44, 18 replies)

I really want
to teach a parrot to say "Help! They've turned me into a parrot!"
( Damien's Hearse, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 1:45, Reply)

Good question.
I've done a quick straw-poll with the lads, and we're all pretty much in agreement that the one thing we'd like to do before we die is to swim with podgy middle-aged tourists with limited imaginations.

Yours sincerely,

A Dolphin
(costas, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 14:41, 4 replies)

I would like to become immensely rich.
I would put my money to good use.

To begin with, I would summon a meeting of the world's most highly-respected football pundits, and demand that they produce for me a list of the world's top 30 players, the world's top two managers, and the world's top referee.

I would then summon those players, those managers, and that referee. Using a tombola, I would divide the players into two teams, and assign each team a manager. The manager's job would be to choose a starting line-up and substitutes from his 15 players. I would call one team "The Reds", and the other "The Blues".

Then I would hire the stadium that all the people I'd consulted deemed to be the world's best.

And then I would hold a match between The Reds and The Blues. Whoever won would be declared the winner - not just of that match, but of football tout court.

And then we'd never have to endure another fucking game ever again.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 10:45, 11 replies)

i want to set fire to a bear - just to see what it sounds like
i want to shave a mohawk into my grandmother

i want to ride a bicycle made of pork through the streets of rome

i want to grow a handlebar moustache and dangle maraccas from it

i want to shoot heroin underwater

i want a brain in a jar i can read Dan Brown novels to.

i want an extensive collection of rare udders

i want to lubricate a church with marmite
( Butters and his titanium codsocket, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 17:32, 6 replies)

Last Week
I abused your trust by saying that I would post googly eye pictures if you clicked 'I like this'. Work was busy, I know it's no excuse but I just didn't have the time, and then it was too late. The new compo was up and I hadn't uploaded any pictures of googly eyes. For that I am sorry. Click I like this only if you like this picture of Cheryl Kerl man pet with googly eyes, on a phone box next to central station in Newcastle, her spiritual home. I don't want to get in trouble so I suppose I've always wanted to add googly eyes to posters before I die.



Check it out you can almost see her tit. That is one googly eyed malaria ridden shiny haired hot piece of radgie ass.
(Pete_G, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 19:18, 10 replies)

Before I die? The lurker returns..
I thought this would be last night.

I was a recovering anorexic. Was being the main part. For 8-10 months now I've been relapsed and I now know that I'm dying. It's 22c in my house and I'm wearing a vest, a polarneck and a huge knit jumper, socks, thermal socks, and shoes - and I'm still shivering. The feeling in my fingers and toes comes and goes as it pleases, alternating between pins and needles, pain, or just numbness. My heart hurts with every beat that it takes. Like being stabbed with a skewer every couple of seconds. My head spins and struggles to focus on things any more. I can't use the toilet without a laxative overdose. I have a constant taste of blood in my mouth from vomiting everything I do break down and eat. My skin won't heal, and flakes off if I scratch it. My stomach is swollen and in pain constantly, and it gets worse if I try and eat anything. My beautiful hair falls out by the tens of strands if I so much as run my hand through it. I tie it up constantly now to stop it falling out so badly. My mouth is full of ulcers which aren't healing. I know that if I continue, I may not even make it until Christmas now. After 7 years with this disease, I now know I am finally dying and the heart attack could be coming at any time. I am suprised that I made it through the night, as I thought yesterday was the end.

But I am reasonably content with this. Whilst many people tell me that my life has sucked, I am happy and have done many things which I am proud of. I got a good education in the face of the bullies who tried to knock me down for every year I was at school. I completed sixth form college with failing kidneys - with higher than average grades, despite only actually attending 50% of classes. I sat an A level exam in agony, doped on sky high levels of painkillers to try and numb it, and got a B. I moved out and supported myself when I was 19 years old. I moved, alone, to a new city when I was 20. I got a job at the leading company in my chosen sector, to experience and live one of my passions in life. I have a dog, a 'difficult breed' who I have brought up and trained on my own. I have a caring and understanding partner who means the world to me, and accepts me for who I am, no matter how sick, well, angry, happy, stoned or sober I am. He looks after me. I am 22. I have no credit cards, no over draft, no loans. I have a moderate sized rented flat, a partner, a dog, and some fish. I have a stable job which I enjoy. I have seen several European countries. I have seen Canada. I have taken drugs and opened my mind. I have seen wolves howling in the wild. I was entered into the group of 'gifted and talented' youngsters whilst at school. I have seen the Ypres war graves and trenches where our ancestors fought and died for our freedom. I have seen dolphins playing wild and free in the ocean. I have seen wild whales. I have stood on the top of a mountain with the wind in my hair, the sun shining on my back, and skiied to the very bottom. I have seen Rome, and eaten home made Italian icecream whilst roaming around the Colloseum. I have driven a car at 100mph. I have met Rolf Harris! I have swam in the desolate, cool clear waters of natural waterfalls in hidden mountain ranges and I have leapt into the deep water below from the top of one. I have ridden the highest, longest, and scariest rollercoasters. I have loved, and lost. I have danced, centre stage, in some of the biggest Fetish club nights in the world. I have qualifications taken years before I was meant to take them. I can converse in three languages. I have performed in National winning drama and dance shows and competitions. I have galloped a horse full speed across a country field. I have fallen off that horse, and got straight back on. I have been to funerals for friends, and for family. I have helped the homeless and the needy. I have stopped for people, when others have walked on by, been the good samaritan. I have sat on a deserted beach and watched a shower of shooting stars whilst cuddling a stray puppy.

I have an eating disorder.
I am thin.

I hate that for years I have rated being thin over all those other things I have done in my short 22 years. But I feel I have lived and I am content with what I have achieved. It could be much worse. I have done SOMETHING to be proud of. I am sure there are many other people my age who can't say that.

The one thing that I know I can't do before I die is the one thing which ruins it all. I wish I hadn't hurt so many people to get here, in the state I am in. I wish that before I die, I could stop causing everyone close to me so much pain and die with a clear conscience. I wish that before I die, I could get better, and get on with enjoying life.

Length?.. This night? A year? The next 50 years? Who knows... Enjoy it whilst you still have it, live every day like it's your last and be sure to give yourself something to be proud of so that if you die tomorrow, you can die content.
( Bathory, Sat 16 Oct 2010, 18:26, 39 replies)

How to win at life.
Society and built in desires to reproduce, give us all on the same "Things to do before we die" list.
We are all like pre-programmed robots, to go out there, do well at school. Get a decent job, fall in love, get married, buy a house, and have kids.
I look at people who have 'achieved' this, they are all smug and boasting, driving around in their Honda Accords and parking it on the driveway of a house they own. When speaking to them, its never "I" this, or "I" that. Its always "We". They are no longer a single entity. They no longer hang around with single people. Its always couples, or friends with like minded families. Life is no longer about them as an individual, its about their kids.

Friday nights involve watching X Factor with a chinese take-away - if the kids have been good.
Sunday might involve a kick around on the park with Mr and Mrs Jones and kids.
The rest of the week is go to work, come home, go to work, come home again.

These people are so in denial, they are so happy in their own little world and think they have won at life.

Reality check - they havnt. Infact, they lose. The reason why they dont hang around with single, unsettled people, is because they realised that with their mortgage, responsibilites, kids, and career. They have effectivly just superglued themselves to the ground. A ground that will just eventually lead them to old age, retirement homes and death. Whats worse, is that because their life is mapped out they can see it coming. There is no fog, mist, blocks or any unknown obscuring their view of the end. They are fastened in tight, and there is no getting out of it. They are jealous of the free ranger, who can go out when and where they want. They wish they had that again.

Winning at life is going against the grain, achieving something which others dont. You win if you achieve something you didnt think you was capable of doing. For example, the guy who swam the channel with no arms or legs: Winner. Mr and Mrs Jones next door with their HD TV and shiney BMW on the drive: Failure. What life experiences have these people got to talk about? "Ooh yes its got Satellite Navigation built into the console"

I feel sorry for those that end up married with kids in their 20s, because they really havnt got anything to say. They are boring people. So what I'm saying is. Just get out there and do the things you want to do before you die. Do it now. Because once youre laying out that white picket fence, You're already dead.
(Miggyman, Mon 18 Oct 2010, 10:34, 89 replies)

Bucket List
I want to go skydiving, with dolphins.
(Nitrous Nitrous, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 22:02, 5 replies)

I would love to do this:
Take the train across to Bradford; dress up as Pacman, eat a big fuck-off gobstopper and chase a group of women in burkhas.

Juvenile? Oh yes.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 18:33, 2 replies)

Before I die I'd quite like to get the attention of whichever lowly cheeky arrogant too-much-hair-product-popped-collar cunt junior copy writer at FHM keeps ripping stories straight off QOTW Best pages and printing them in their 'magazine'
so I could argh raaaaagh fuck you you fucking cock fuck I'll fucking slowly cut out each one of the main veins in your feet and hook you up to a dialysis machine so I can keep you alive for as long as possible while I practice my acupuncture with carpet tacks and a pin hammer. I'll lay you on a bed of nails and drive stakes through your thighs to keep you in position while I heat each nail up with a blowtorch until it's glowing. Let me experiment with my My First Dentist toolkit I'll attach your tongue to your chin with a safety pin so it keeps out of my fucking way while I'm working until I slam your jaw shut so hard you bite it off so you can't form any more of those fucking lying cheating arse-fucking words. I'll dislocate your wrists and ankles tie ropes to your limbs and dangle you over a drumkit and force you to play along to Hanson's greatest hits hit that fucking snare you arse fuck cunt.
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Tue 19 Oct 2010, 11:03, 29 replies)

I read the news today, oh boy.
It would appear that there's a proposal that teaching grant for UK universities should fall by £3.2bn - 79%. The research budget is to fall by £1bn. (source)

79%.

This is blatantly ideological. There's no way that cutting the public deficit merits that kind of savagery in the higher education sector. And while the chances are that my institution will sail through the cuts without even noticing - because we'll be able to charge what we bloody well like - I'm furious at the brutal murder and corpse-desecration of the idea of scholarship and education as a public good.

SO. One thing to do before I die is now to hunt down every member of this government, wrestle them to the floor, and stamp on their pitiful throats.

Fuck me, I'm angry.
/rant
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 12:22, 67 replies)

Aiming high.
12 years ago, a friend and I were leaving school forever. We made up a list of things we had to accomplish now that we walked in the world of men. I still have it – a useful reminder of what, as young teens, we felt were important achievements for a real man to have under his belt. Here are a select few:

Foil a baddy in the execution of his duties
Find an amount of money exceeding £100
Make an enemy cry with a witty rejoinder (witnesses necessary)
Lance a boil
Boil a lance, for the fuck of it
Catch someone who is falling (preferably with one hand, height of fall irrelevant)
Egg on a streetfighter
Shrug nonchalantly. Mean it.
Faint
Chair a meeting stood up, pacing, and smoking a cigar
Serenade the wrong window
Have a drink slid to me by a stranger in an apron
Be cursed
Arm-wrestle a lesbian
Rue the day
Visit a celebrity in prison. Demand that they stop writing me letters.
Kick out a farmer
Fool a camel

----------

Still working on most of them.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 11:07, 6 replies)

Since this thing is impossible, I suppose it's more of a wish
But I am currently in America, and have just received an email from my mum letting me know that Tash, the cat I have had since I was 8, got a massive infection in his sinuses over the weekend that stopped him breathing, and he had to be put down.

I know it is what absolutely every single pet-owner says, but he wasn't a cat. He was Tash. There never has been, and never will be a cat that keeps me company like he did, and loved me through thick and thin.

Since moving to the US, I have started gaining some success as a writer, started making a name for myself, but right now, I would give every single penny, and all of my possessions, to be able to say goodbye to him properly. To give him a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. Just to hear him purr one more time.


(bobman500 enjoys a grope as much as the next fella, Tue 19 Oct 2010, 19:54, 14 replies)

Hardly groundbreaking....
I've read a few entries on here, unfortunately not that much *sparkles* with me, except the bloke who ranted that the life I've created is boring and ive wasted my time, still I think he got flamed enough for being a little short sighted, funny though.

You see, my problem, if you can call it one, is that ive only ever wanted to have a good job, children, a home and a lovely wife. I didnt take the shortcut to this by getting a 14 year old pregnant while in school and getting lucky in the council house lottery. I just took my time and grew up, it wasnt easy, it didnt all fall into my lap, I had to go out and "try", but I got there.

I've never wanted to visit tibetan temples, or leap out of a plane, pipedreams maybe, if the opportunity ever arises I'll probably take it, but my drive has alwayy been just to be me.

Pretty boring really, but I found its a lot harder to be me than you might think, I can guarantee none of you would be able to be me, you may be better, or worse, but never "me".

My cynical and somewhat blanket view is that "we" as a species are just like the other species out there, we like showing off, whereas "you" might show off by telling me tales of how you outran a small militia while taking part in the Gumball 3000 on the borders of Poland in a sinclair C5 wearing nothing but a banaman costume and smoking a cigar, I just like telling people about how well my wife and kids are doing, and that they are happy.

To me, knowing that is enough to know that im on the road to achieving something special, and having my kids grow up with me is a constant change of perspective and goals in itself.

Sorry for being/sounding boring....I'm happy.
(Smellyape liking http://www.b3ta.com/bpma/, Tue 19 Oct 2010, 12:55, 3 replies)

I WOULD LIKE TO GROW A PAIR AND ASK THE CUNT BEHIND ME TO STOP SLURPING HIS TEA

(mersault, Fri 15 Oct 2010, 13:06, 6 replies)

Talk to my Dad properly
Apologies for lack of funnies in this.

It started when I was about 11. My nan died, and my dad was her only child. As his father, her husband, was hugely older than her, he died early, leaving the two of them alone, and they became really close.

She'd had two strokes in two years, and the doctors had made noises about her maybe going into a home, but she was sturrbon and independent so they made a compromise and she came to live in our house. We converted half the lounge into a bedroom for her. It was quite nice and she taught me tarot and how to bake.

Then she died, suddenly, one night. I remember her going to hospital and then the phone ringing at 3am and my Dad crying. He cried all of that night, but never again after. I don't think he really believed that she was gone.

I don't think he ever got over it, either. Within a year he had a nervous breakdown, then another and another. Every time he had them he'd go "for a walk" and be found days later ten or twelve miles away, dehydrated, curled up in a bush somewhere. His brain had gone a bit crazy and told him that the people who had taken his mother away were coming for him, too.

Eventually he was sectioned and the stay in the local psych hospital helped a bit, although he somehow managed to escape.

Slowly, he got better, stopped running away, trusted the doctors and nuses. But he isn't himself, and the doctors say he never will be again; something's broken in his mind and they don't know if he will fix itself in a week, a year, or never.

I've had long chats with my mum about it and I think she's OK, they stayed married and I hope they're happy, even though he isn't the man she married, not in personality anyway.

I've never spoken to him about how it affected me, how abandoned I felt and how terrified I was when he left on those numerous occassions, because every time I brought it up he changed the subject or didn't seem to understand.

I want to talk to him properly about it. One day.
( cakelady, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 13:31, 7 replies)

My calling
Three weeks ago I started as a PhD student at Cambridge University researching the causes of Alzheimer's disease (and other related neurodegenerative diseases such as Parkinson's, Huntingdon's, vCJD). I LOVE it and am the happiest I have ever been. The best bit? One day I may make a real, solid difference in someone's life. One day someone may be told they have early onset Alzhiemer's and instead of it being a long slow death sentence, even worse for those who love them who have to slowly watch them fade away, they may instead be told "Here's some tablets, take one a day for the next week and you'll be fine". I could be a tiny, tiny part of that possibilty.

Things to do before you die? Use what you're best at to make the biggest difference you can to whoever you can, no matter how small or unimportant it may seem. Then your life will have been worthwhile.
(Petite chien is going to do science to it, Mon 18 Oct 2010, 21:23, 7 replies)

Roger McGough summed it up better than I ever could...
"Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death "

No apologies for length.
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Thu 14 Oct 2010, 21:58, 3 replies)

Threesome.
Two girls. Not fat.
( SigmaX0 Dear Die Hard. You rock!, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 14:35, 9 replies)

The list.
I've known V for getting on 25 years, and we've been best mates for almost 20. In 2001, she was about to move to Australia for a year with her (then) boyfriend; she didn't know whether she'd be coming back, and so there was every chance that our friendship was about to change radically.

We decided that the two of us should throw some stuff in the car and head off for a week camping in France as a kind of last hurrah. So we did.

We made it as far as the Loire valley before heading back Northwards, and talked and talked about our respective futures. As we sat at the hovercraft port waiting to come home, V produced two pieces of paper and pens, and suggested that we both write down our ambitions for the years ahead. Then we'd swap lists and, whatever happened to us, make a point of meeting up every 5 years or so to see which of our ambitions we'd fulfilled.

Thankfully, she came back, and we now live about an hour from each other. But I still have her list in my wallet.
1. Visit all 7 continents. She's done that.
2. Own a cat. She's done that.
3. Own a piano. Electric one, yep.
4. Take a helicopter flight. Done.
5. Visit New Zealand. To be honest, I'm not sure. I don't think she's done that.
6. Visit every country in Europe. Not yet.
7. Write a book and get it published. Not yet.
8. Have a child. She did that in May.
9. Get married. Yep - she did that a couple of years ago, thankfully not to the idiot with whom she went to Australia.
10. Run a marathon. I'm not sure whether she's done that yet.
11. Go up in a hot air balloon. I think she's done that.
12. Do a CVP line unassisted. This is interesting. She was a year out of medical school at the time, and this was still something she hadn't mastered. She laughs now at this one.
13. Do an LP [?lumbar puncture?] unassisted. Ditto.
14. Become a consultant or GP. Not yet - but it'll come soon.
15. Learn Spanish. I don't think she's done that yet.
16. Trek in Nepal. Not yet.
17. Take singing lessons. Not yet.

So: ten years on, she's achieved many of what were then her lifetime ambitions.

As for my list? She lost it.
Silly mare.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 14:16, 6 replies)

I watched an HBO special about a couple getting married.
Both had Downs Syndrome.

I want to laugh that hard again sometime in my life.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Mon 18 Oct 2010, 0:51, 14 replies)

Be the filling in a Minogue sandwich.

(Billy The Fish wants to gargle with Lucy Pinder's bath water, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 17:19, 21 replies)

I've always wanted to open my own bakery.
Nothing fancy, just breads and cakes and pies and things that taste nice and bring back happy memories of being little and surrounded by your grandmother's baking (provided your gran could bake, that is). Somewhere you could sit with a hot cup of tea and a slice of cake and just relax. The idea of making people happy via food appeals to me; so many people get caught up in trendy eating and forget the pleasures of simple-but-delicious foods.
I have a line of vegan baked goods I make that, in the words of a vegan friend, 'taste like food, not like misery'. I'd like the opportunity to provide little kids with dairy allergies a proper birthday cake like a kid should have instead of them having to watch other kids eat cake they can't eat or being given something that bears a striking resemblance to an iced paving stone. I make plenty of non-vegan things that are also delicious, but I feel sorry for people who don't eat eggs/dairy and who get presented nasty baked goods by people who expect them to be grateful for that crap.
I don't want to be on any of those TV shows where they compete to see who can make the most impressive tower of (likely dry, tasteless) cake covered in all manner of fondant ridiculousness or who can create the most ridiculous cupcake flavour combination or present the most minimalist version of bread; nothing like that. Just classic, traditional things that taste even better than you remember.
(louveciennes , Volvospotter, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 16:36, 6 replies)

Conquering fears and all that.
There are two places in Norway that I really want to go to, and I suspect it's partly because I'm scared of heights. There's times you want to do something because it terrifies you, and this is one of them. If you're scared of heights, I suggest you either press page down really quickly, or grab something really solid for reassurance.

The first is Trolltunga. Translates to Troll Tongue, and it's a slab of rock that sticks out pretty much horizontally from a cliff face. It's a 350m drop to the water below...



(picture is from here)

The second is Kjerag, and the Kjeragbolten. The Kjeragbolten is a 5m wide boulder that's wedged between two sides of a crevasse, and people tend to jump onto the top of it. The reason it's a bit terrifying? It's wedged between two sides of a crevasse, and that crevasse has a drop to the fjord below that's nearly a kilometre high. Here's a couple of pictures of someone standing on the boulder, and the view down from the boulder.





(both pictures from Wikipedia here)


I'm half thinking around canvassing my friends to see if anyone else is up for it, and going on a road trip from the UK in the summer. Hopefully then I'll have the courage to get some photos of myself standing on the two for other people to use in "things to do before I die" posts. Being hones though, it's more likely they'll be ones of me lying on the ground, desperately hanging onto the floor for dear life and having to be rescued by other people after freezing with the fear.
(MattWPBS, Sun 17 Oct 2010, 15:42, 27 replies)

Make this dog's box relax so I can withdraw.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Mon 18 Oct 2010, 6:51, 4 replies)

My boy is 20 tomorrow
and before I die I would love to see him crying, sobbing, on the sofa in front of me begging for help.
Tired beyond belief, unable to speak, eyes rolling round in sockets that have bags the size of suitcases under them.
Wondering to himself how he got in this mess.
Unsure if his life will ever be the same again.
Thinking he has made a terrible terrible mistake.
Then I can scoop up the bundle of screaming red faced crying grandchild into my arms and make it all better. Pour all my heart into something my dearest love in the world has produced, and spoil them all to death.
I fucking can't wait to be a grandma.
( Herb Alpert's Taxi Driver I have very beautiful lips, Sun 17 Oct 2010, 22:39, 8 replies)

Toughie...
This QOTW is kind of hard for me. Two months ago I had my whole life planned out. I had just graduated with a 2.1 in Law, I was going to be a kick-ass barrister. I had a fiance and a house. I had enough savings to learn to drive, buy a car and pay for a years insurance. Now I have no job, a rented house, no partner, and no savings. However, if I compare the past two years with the past two months, I would say that I hadn't been living until then. I have finally started going out and acting like a proper 21 year old, I have finally rediscovered the real me. I have reconnected with old friends and made new ones. I have experienced things that I thought would never happen to me, and learned all the while. If I were to die tomorrow, I would die a happier person.
(BelladonnaAnodyne Melissa's gonna wet herself, I swear..., Sat 16 Oct 2010, 19:05, 12 replies)

I hope one day to be like Tom Waits.
My kids are starting to notice I'm a little different from the other dads. "Why don't you have a straight job like everyone else?" they asked me the other day. I told them this story: In the forest, there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. Every day, the straight tree would say to the crooked tree, "Look at me...I'm tall, and I'm straight, and I'm handsome. Look at you...you're all crooked and bent over. No one wants to look at you." And they grew up in that forest together. And then one day the loggers came, and they saw the crooked tree and the straight tree, and they said, "Just cut the straight trees and leave the rest." So the loggers turned all the straight trees into lumber and toothpicks and paper. And the crooked tree is still there, growing stronger and stranger every day.
( Wanderer, Sat 16 Oct 2010, 4:58, Reply)

I want to see things you people wouldn't believe.
I want to watch attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I want to watch C-beams glitter in the dark, near the Tannhäuser Gate.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Thu 14 Oct 2010, 21:24, 3 replies)