Central Track Contributor
The 10 Most Likely Ways To Die In Dallas.
Around 2 a.m. this morning a 3.1-magnitude earthquake struck near Cleburne . The quake's epicenter was roughly 16 miles south of Fort Worth, but the effects of the 20-second jolt were felt as far away as Plano, Mansfield and Denton.
Although no injuries were reported, the earthquake is just the latest in a series of Johnson County quakes that some experts are speculating could be related to the over 200 gas wells that have been dug in the area.
We can't imagine the drilling will stop anytime soon, which leads us to believe that earthquakes are just kind of par for the course of living in North Texas now. What's more, we have to think the quakes will only continue to grow in frequency and intensity.
In short: We're all going to die.
To think, we're so young. We haven't even crossed everything off of our Dallas bucket list yet.
But, really, Dallas has become a pretty dangerous place to call home. This morning, we started making a list of all the things we need to start looking out for if we want to stay safe. Because we care, we've decided to share that list with you. Here are the 10 ways in which one is most likely to die in Dallas.
Stepping in front of a DART Bus.
A lot of people like to bitch about the city not having enough public transportation. Are these people crazy? Those ominous yellow busses and trains are everywhere. Haven't you seen them? They're really big. And fast. Do we really need more of these killing machines threatening pedestrian safety?
At the hands of a mugger on the Katy Trail.
According to digital documents recently released by the DPD, the band of brazen criminals responsible for the most recent string of Katy Trail muggings specifically targets folks jogging with bulky, generation one iPods that haven't been updated in years and are mostly filled with Journey tunes anyway. This in itself makes us prime targets.
Being hit by a flying semi during the next Tornadomageddon..
You'd think, living in tornado alley, that we'd have a pretty good grip on how to deal with these suckers. Sadly, this is not the case. Think we're wrong? Just listen to five minutes of the on-air phone calls WFAA-TV meteorologist Pete Delkus takes during the next storm. Oh, there will be a next one. What has us most worried, though, is that, no matter how prepared we think we might be, there's pretty much no defense against a flying semi.
From injuries sustained in a northeast Dallas gay bashing incident.
The thing about being gay-bashed these days is that you can be victimized just for being perceived as being homosexual. With today's fashions, it can be tough to tell which outfit some bat-wielding homophobe might consider gay. We like to wear our jorts pretty short in the summer.
Driving off the road after being distracted by the lights on the Omni Hotel.
As if driving at night wasn't scary enough, now we have this behemoth of an eyesore to contend with. The drive home from Oak Cliff is pretty winding, and the LEDs on the Omni's facade are a distraction to say the very least. We'll be the first ones to admit we're pretty easily distracted. Wait, what was I writing about again?
Falling off of a crane at SMU.
This one might seem pretty easy to avoid on the surface, but sometimes we just panic. And, much like a baby bear, we tend to climb the closest tall object when we get spooked. Also like a baby bear, we get a little unnerved after the adrenaline has worn off and we suddenly realize how high up we are. Somehow, we don't see this ending well.
Getting hit in the head by a baseball-sized chunk of hail.
Our east Dallas neighborhood was hit pretty hard by the hailstorm earlier this week. Driving home down our street felt oddly Armageddon-like. No car windshield was spared. GEICO won't be there to help us after large sporting equipment-sized chunks of ice smash into the backs of our skulls. In unrelated news, we just saved a bunch of money by switching our car insurance.
From clogged arteries after years of enjoying fried fair foods.
The State Fair has become known as the “fried food capital of Texas.” True story. Unfortunately, as the most prideful state, we can't be content with a title like that. And we won't stop frying things like butter, Coke, gravy and bacon until we're also known as the “clogged artery capital of Texas” as well.
Falling into the Trinity River.
As if adding some sort of river walk to the Trinity River weren't a big enough tax-dollar waste, the city has managed, somehow, come up with an even worse idea: adding rapids to the Trinity to attract more urban kayakers to the area. With all of the hogs blood, disease and general filth in the river, though, there's no way we could imagine falling into that thing and coming out alive. Perhaps they view the added excitement of catching botulism after capsizing one's vessel as a bonus rush for all of those thrill-seeking kayakers?
Drowning in the F.O.E. pool after taking too many Jell-O shots.
Other than birth-defects and car wrecks, drowning is the leading cause of death for children under five. The same, we imagine, is true of poolside alcoholics. The Fraternal Order of Eagles pool not only serves up some of the cheapest Lonestars around, but they also have some remarkably tasty Jell-O shots for just a buck. Sometimes, on a lazy Sunday, it can get hard to resist the temptation to just throw down a 10 spot on the suckers, making drowning a very likely possibility. It's not that our friends wouldn't try to jump in and save us after we've made the inevitable stumble into the pool. But, let's face it, we're guessing they'd be in no condition to swim either.
