I once saw a forklift lift a crate of forks. And it was way to literal for me.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I remember that, at an early age, I spent many months making a three-masted sailing boat with rigging in a half-walnut shell.
I was more of a weightlifter.
I'd never have a facelift, as I have never seen one that looks good.
I learned the mechanics of how to fly a plane, but I never lifted a plane off the ground.
I spent my whole life helping my mother carry around her psychic trunks like a bitter bellhop. So a great load was lifted when she died, and my life was much easier.
I liken Sleater-Kinney to a freight train. It felt like this incredible, forward-moving, powerful energy.
I can't say that I've ever actually got on a horse and roped a cow, no.
My main form of transportation at that time was a bicycle, because bicycles could move though the crowd.
When I was growing up, my dad didn't have weights, so he made himself a weight bench. Instead of a hand-me-down jacket, it was a hand-me-down weight bench.
So I was getting into my car, and this bloke says to me 'Can you give me a lift?' I said 'Sure, you look great, the world's your oyster, go for it.'