I am writing a Fuckit List.
It’s like a Bucket List but more immediately gratifying.
A Bucket List – a list of things you think you should do before you die – is good because it may focus you to do more things in this very short, 1,000 month life of ours.
But a Bucket List takes time and planning and the real gratification only comes when you actually do the things you’ve written.
A Fuckit List is quite different.
Fuckit list.
A Fuckit List is a list of all the things you’re not going to do before you die.
Either because you can’t be arsed or because you’ve realised that the only reason you thought you wanted to do them in the first place was because some other person thought you should.
You never really wanted to do them anyway.
Anyhow, here’s my Fuckit List.
It is work in progress:
FUCKIT LIST. MICHAEL OWEN. VERSION 1.1.
- Bunjee Jump. Stupid.
- Parachute jump. Stupid.
- Swimming with Sharks or Dolphins. It’s too deep. Any big creature could just swim up and get you.
- Tightrope Walking. Stupid.
- Understanding Quadratic Equations. Why?
- Learning to ride a Unicycle. Why?
- Skateboarding. Looks like it can hurt if you fall off.
- Ski-jump. Stupid.
- Speak another language fluently. I concede that this is because of lack of application.
- Eat Sushi. Texture of raw fish is too slimy. And it can make you poorly.
- Eat Steak Tartare. See above.
- Being World Snooker Champion. Too much practicing. I’d get bored.
- Being World Darts Champion. See above.
- Poaching wild animals or indeed any animal. Because that would make me a bastard.
- Vote UKIP. See above.
Work in progress, as I say.
4 Comments
I admit to having done a lot of stupid things. Perhaps the best was skydiving with my two children, then aged 9 and 12. Falling through 15,000 feet of air on a crystalline day above Wanaka in New Zealand gave us all a new appreciation for each other and the amazing planet that we live on. We bonded through the experience in a way that can only be achieved when you have collectively faced fears and overcome them and the result is exhilarating.
Perhaps the bravest person was my long-suffering wife, who calmly stayed in Queenstown for a spot of shopping, while her husband took her two precious children and wilfully threw them out of a perfectly good aeroplane.
The title of this post is strangely reminiscent of the words that left my mouth as I left the plane.
It’s interesting…
I don’t think they’re stupid really (even though I wrote that – I’m just messing really) – they’re just not for me.
I imagine that the adrenaline is pretty amazing.
And addictive.
And in many ways these kinds of adventures are much safer than some of the vices that boredom drove me to in the past.
But that’s my story.
Yours is great!
You do loads of things.
Motorbikes.
Moustaches.
Festivals.
Fabulous!
1000 months. Not long to give it all a try.
I’ll give ‘moustache’ a go…