When I was little, I spent a great deal of time worrying about things that might get me when I wasn’t looking. I’d lie in bed and worry about death, or meteors falling from the sky, or that kid that I purposely hit in the head with my lunch box in kindergarten. (He was asking for it. Long story.) All of these things, it seemed, could end me at any moment and without any warning. That said, one thing never bothered me: roller coasters. They scared the shit out of me, but I loved them anyway. Did my skinny kid ass flop around in the big, adult-size seats? Of course. Did I spend a lot of time worrying about letting go and falling out? Naturally. (I now know that it’s pretty much impossible, but it seemed real enough

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Commenter Of The Day: Loller Coaster Edition [Commenter Of The Day]