I hate rollercoasters. Fucking despise them, and always had for years. Once, about 5 years ago, I was coaxed onto a rollercoaster knowing full well how awful and terrible they were...How dreadfully afraid of them I was. Time comes that I'm strapped in and waiting for it to start. I'm freaking the fuck out, trying to think of a way to get out of it, but there's no backing out now.

Damn thing doesn't eek its way up a hill slowly like most of them... It blasts off from the start at full speed like a stabbed rat and I hold on for dear life. Before I know what's going on, I'm screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs because, holy shit, I'm not dying and this shit is exhilarating.

It wasn't until later that my then wife told me how embarrassed she was because I had been whooping and hollering curse words on a ride that consisted of a good chunk of her family and several adolescent kids. I realized what an ass I had been, and how inappropriately I had acted....But, shit...I faced some fear, and came out on top.

Long story short, adrenaline does weird stuff dude.