"No fear"

These No Fear stickers always make me smile.
"No 2-brain-cells-that-connect-together" says the little sarcastic voice in my head.

Try and think of a sport that combines the joys of hypothermia, with the risks of having your arms seriously elongated, your shoulders seriously dislocated, your frails body thrust several meters up in the air before crashing back into the furious murky waves, the possibility of head-butting a car ferry and the even greater possibility of ending up as gourmet food for the Dublin Bay Prawns... and you are bound to come up with the two magic words: Kite Surfing!

I would have been so into it before the arrival of the kids. It has all the attributes of what got my pulse racing, before I was finally trapped under the heavy cloak of paternal responsibility: unnecessary mortal risks, bright neoprene waterproof wear, costly specialised sport equipment, cool mates with long bleached ringlets, battered Volkswagen camper vans filled with incense and other pungent smokes, and a very real desire to get laid in spite of all the carefully orchestrated cool and the I-so-couldn't-be-arsed aloofness.

Those were the days...

PS: no Photoshop here
PPS: I am only having a laugh, I do have kite surfing friends. At the last count 2 were still alive.