Wait a minute. What happened to GF #491? I assure you, it exists. But just as I was hovering over the publish button, a weird sensation came over me. Whenever I get that, I don't publish whatever I'm about to publish. In this case, it's because I got even more personal than I've ever been here before, and it was a little unsettling. I decided not to publish MY DEEPEST DARKEST SECRET. I saved the draft, so if someone finds it after I'm dead, they can feel free to publish it. I won't care by then. Think of it as the LOST GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS COLUMN. People like uncovering "lost" things.
So let's not get grim tonight. I haven't been in a good mind frame in quite a while, now, so let's think about something pleasant. A happy memory. Back when I was a kid, my grandfather would drive my cousin and I to school every day. It was down the street from where we lived at the time, and there was always this hill we'd go down. And if Gramps hit it just right, it would make us jump off the seat and hit our heads on the ceiling.
Wait, what? Seatbelts, I hear you ask? It was the mid-'Eighties. It would have been shocking if we were in the front seat wearing them, much less the back.
But every weekday we would go through the ritual, and it made us laugh each and every time. I miss doing that. I still live near that hill, but they did something to it near the end of the 'Eighties that made it impossible to replicate the experience. It was a shame, and even though it was probably dangerous, I wish I could still do that. I'm sure the size I am now would prevent it from happening even if I went back in time, but still.
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