Homemade Plastic Sheeting Excitement Device.
Me having fun the only way I know how...by screaming repeatedly while being dragged 20 to 30 feet through a field.
And further: Yes, yes, before everyone hurls their insults and accusations at me for being an idiot or labels this as the redneck's equivalent of some other "legitimate" sport, let me just explain to you that I am both an idiot AND a redneck, and that the alternate title to this video is, "French Rednecks in Space: Honky-Tonk Revenge Manifesto—Wind-Surfing in the Fields of Love, on Mars," so save your fingers to type something that actually cuts me to the heart rather than just scrapes the surface of things.
In other news, this is a simple getup. All I did was go to a locally owned and operated hardware store that was conveniently situated right across from Wal-Mart and buy the largest roll of cheap plastic sheeting they carry. I bought a stud (southern yellow pine) from the family-operated lumber yard across from Home Depot and sawed it in half, and then I bought four little bags of 40lb-test-strength nylon rope from this homeless guy I know who hangs out behind Lowe's and who for some reason or other consistently carries a complete line of high-quality sisal and nylon ropes as well as cordless power-tool batteries (Lowe's always seems to be out. Go figure.). I tied the corners of the plastic to the ends of the studs by simply bunching up the plastic (in other words I didn't use ringlets or cut the plastic, I simply made a huge unruly knot out of the plastic itself because that was the only way to keep it from tearing. I also added duct tape to secure the knots so that they wouldn't come undone or slide up and down on the studs). Then I doubled up the rope so that each "line" that ran to each end of each stud was actually two lines and therefore had 80lbs of strength each. I weigh about 145, so this was good for me (so long as I don't come off the ground).
Why am I telling you all this? Certainly not so you can build one yourself and try this at home, in the field across the street, in an empty parking lot with a skateboard, etc. I just wanted to get across how easy it was to build something that, on windy days, provides hours of real and actual and genuine and authentic satisfaction. I'm talking about the kind of satisfaction that comes back to haunt you like an embarrassing memory. One that returns repeatedly and redefines everything else in life according to its own immutable consequences. One that makes all other activities seem like useless and repetitive motions trailing into the absurd march of meaninglessness. In other words, satisfaction that makes everyday life unbearable and depressing. That's right, a satisfaction so complete that it is, in actual fact, totally UNsatisfying when put into perspective. THAT'S the kind of satisfaction I'm talking about. Not the kind you get from sitting around playing The Ungame eating Govinda Bars and Kombu. Not the kind you get from inserting your entire head into a c-clamp and twisting until the only thought in your mind is ZZKTTTTRRRPLLLLTHHTTT!!!!—and then in one moment of clarity before blacking out: How on earth did that one loserville basketball team from nowheretown make it to the finals last year? And finally, not the kind you get simply by WATCHING someone else do something idiotic and extremely dangerous (it's not dangerous...just...potentially face-destroying and bone-snapping).
Oh, oh...and let me explain something. Doing this is superlatively exhausting. What you are seeing are 45 m.p.h. wind gusts and me struggling with all my might to keep that thing from flying away. Also, there are a few reasons I scream so much. One is the rush of feeling the wind pull me along like that, and the other is that screaming actually makes the whole thing more fun than it really is, because it tricks me into thinking that I'm actually doing something supremely dangerous, when I'm not. I guess I was also hoping someone would hear me, think I was dying, come out and see whatever idiotic thing I was doing, and then stand there in disbelief while shaking their heads and wondering what the heck was going through my mind to have contemplated doing such a thing. Oh, and then there's the excruciating pain of the wind jerking my bones out of their sockets each time it yanks the sail and my arms. Dangerous? Ha ha! Who needs bones that stay in their sockets?
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google "garbasail", it is the art of this very thing...
22ndCenturyJosh 2 years ago 6
wow that looks liek my condom
nikefball82 3 years ago 6