*Preface - I'm still not over how horrible this template of mine is. It's too bad I'm unwilling to do anything about it. At least not until the day I'm sitting in lecture with the prof mumbling about the wonders of computing in the background while I check the blog for comments. That will be the breaking point. I can see it now. With that all out of the way, this post ended up about ten feet (ell oh ell zed, you'll get it later) long of the intended receiver. That made no sense.

An unfortunate freak accident occurred at a Six Flags amusement park in Kentucky, severing the feet patron. "A cord wrapped around the 16-year-old's feet and severed them at her ankles", after the cord snapped on a ride named the Superman Tower of Power, similar to Canada's Wonderland's Drop Zone. And being the responsible park Canada's Wonderland is, it has taken the initiative to halt its free-fall ride pending safety inspections.

While my condolences go out to the girl, undoubtedly scarred for life, this post is not about her. Because of this really unfortunate accident, I may now never get the chance to ride the Drop Zone. If a part of you cringed at how quickly this post's focus switched over to me, hi, welcome to my blog, I'm Buttug McOysty, and I'm totally aawesome. And if a part of you cringed at the thought of me being eager to hop on a ride that just took off the feet of a young lady, well this guy said it best:

"Every park, one in a million maybe something happens," park visitor Kenneth Lay said. "But I have no fear."

*Sidenote* Kenneth Lay? THE Kenneth Lay? The guy responsible for the Enron fiasco? According to the world's most accurate and entertaining encyclopedia, he's dead! Was he just hiding out at amusement parks avoiding incarceration? How is somebody not looking onto this? And is this a viable career option? Or a vocation open only to multi-billionaires? So many questions. So few answer*End Sidenote*

That's right. I've never been on the Drop Zone. Not because I'm chicken. I eat chicken for breakfast. Simply put, I've always been told that the long line is not justified by the payoff of a thrilling few seconds of free falling. But I've been meaning to see for myself. And now, it looks like it won't be happening anytime in the near future.

We've reached the halfway point of this post and we're talking about amusement parks, so go ahead and make like that casino commercial (I can't remember which casino nor can I find the clip) where the people walk around with their arms raised above their heads like they're being robbed at gunpoint on a roller coaster. Go ahead. It's plenty of fun. I'll wait.

*humming the logically confusing MIMS - This Is Why I'm Hot*

I still want to go to Wonderland. Somebody please take me to Wonderland. Please? Anybody? Really! I'm not scared! Everything I do in life involves some level of risk. Driving to work in the morning. Lobbing pitches at uncomfortably close ranges to hitters looking to smack the skin right off the softballs. Ordering materials off e-bay. Befriending soon-to-be-friends. You just never know when another car rushing to get to work may come crashing into yours, or when a softball will take an ugly bounce, or when a package will come laced with anthrax, or when a soon-to-be-friend also happens to be on America's Most Wanted.

It's living life. It's risky. There are just more important things to think about then every little thing that could go wrong. Being in North America affords us a certain level of comfortability already. We have it relatively sweet. But back to the issue at feet, I mean, hand.

*well deserved angry stares at a failed comedic attempt*

Let's just cut to some direct quotes before this whole post blows up in my face.

"She was pretty and she was popular," Wasz-Piper (school-mate) said.

WAS pretty? WAS popular? Sounds like someone is rushing to a premature judgment of how she'll fair in the future. Kids can be so mean. I know because I am.

"Smith (eye-witness) said she saw no blood and the girl wasn’t crying"

A beauty (in the past according to school-mate) AND a beast.

The no blood thing is creepy. What, did red Jello come spewing out of her severed limbs instead? Maybe ketchup. More believable. And less chunky.

I'm hungry. This post has reached its end. The hunt for food officially commences now. I'm thinking chicken...feet. Jokes.

*walks over to a mirror and disapprovingly shakes head at myself*