Any activity that involves losing altitude at a high speed, or even the possibility of that occurring.
Swimming with sharks. (Though I'd like to swim with dolphins.)
Any activity that involves swimming in murky waters over my head. Especially where there are alligators & water mocassins. Swamp wrestling ain't on my bucket list.
Taking a class in primal screaming.
Buying an expensive sports car, like a Maserati (or any other ridiculously overpriced 'status' car).
Going to Australia or New Zealand--though nothing against Aussies or Kiwis. Granted, the scenery in New Zealand did look awesome in the Lord of the Rings movies, & I'm sure I'd enjoy the Australian Open in tennis if I were to ever get there because I'm a big tennis fan. But I don't like to fly, & it's an extremely long flight from the east coast of the United States. What a nightmare. You'd have to put me into a coma. Drugs wouldn't be enough.
Doing anything that requires getting on a human built airplane. Though I'd be very happy to fly on a UFO.
Chartering a yacht. (I've seen one too many episodes of "Below Deck". I'd rather rent a canoe & capsize.)
Going on a submarine, even at Disney World.
Going back to Disney World.
Eating a meal at any chain restaurant in America.
Going to a nudist beach.
Seeing another retrospective of works by any American abstract expressionist painter. The last one I took in was Willem Dekooning's at the Met, whose paintings I used to like in college (it was a passing phase...). I'd count the exhibit as the biggest waste of 3 minutes in my life; next to the Magritte show, which took a whole 4 1/2 minutes. I actually began to break out in a sweat & get dizzy looking at Dekooning's paintings. Though the Lucien Freud exhibit was probably even worse. What a pose. Here was a so-called painter that didn't know how to draw, paint, or model form with any skill whatsoever. From Lord Leighton & J.M. Waterhouse to Freud? I'd say that's a serious decline.
Returning to Cambridge, England: where I once had a severe bout with food poisoning in a pub after eating a shepherd's pie that was left over from Medieval times. l almost died. At one point my soul actually left my body & I looked down at myself sitting in a toilet stall. (It was my one & only out of body experience.) Then I heard a male voice say in an English accent, "No, no, he's not ready. Send him back"--after which I came to with my fists tightly clenched as if I'd been having convulsions.
Does this mean that God is English? Next time I think I'll go to Oxford.
Eating sheep balls, duck testicles, or 'lamb fries'.
Eating the eyeballs of anything that was once living.
Eating a cockroach.
Eating a bat.