Added: 710 days ago by Kevin Holmes | Posted in: Celebs | 7 Comments

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<div align='center'><a href='http://www.kontraband.com/blog/21721/Awesomely-Dangerous-Occupations/'>Awesomely Dangerous Occupations</a><br><div align='center'></div><br><a href='http://www.kontraband.com/blog'>See more like this on kontraband.com</a></div>

Danger, Danger!

Recently I've started watching Breaking Bad (I know I'm late to it- shame on me) starring Bryan Cranston (Malcolm in the Middle's dad) about a meek chemistry teacher who gets diagnosed with lung cancer and told he's only got two years to live. In order to provide for his family's future he starts to produce crystal meth to sell on the streets. His life goes from suburban father and downtrodden teacher - working in a car wash to earn extra cash with a boss who is as annoying as his eyebrows are thick - to a man who has to deal with dissolving bodies in acid and kidnapping and killing local drug dealers. It's a great show, darkly humorous with Bryan Cranston putting in a steady performance of weary stoicism while battling his way through an underground, unbeknown world.

But it got me thinking; what occupation would I do if I just didn't care whether I lived or died? If I wasn't the sort of man who looks at the Cowardly Lion as a role model for bravery? The sort of jobs where danger means more than checking out some NSFW content in your lunch break, where danger constantly looks over your shoulder - like a boss - pointing out how you could so easily die..

Criminal Kingpin
Why not? Think Al Pacino in Scar Face, illegal toxic waste dumping, Naples housing estates and Marvel Supervillians. You'd certainly make some money, but at what cost? You must either have a conscience made from iced nerve-endings or be terminally haunted by past atrocities committed or sanctioned. Its attraction is the thrill of managing something so constantly about to boil over, that at any moment you could have control wrestled from you in the most violently immediate way possible - like a hunted animal. TV tells me it's glamorous, but this is an obvious lie.
Size of balls = Mercury

Blowout/Oil Firefighting
The task of this job is containing erupting and blazing oil wells - we've all been there. It's the sort of heroic old-school job that demands a John Wayne movie be made about it, which is exactly what happened; the film Hellfighters is about American oil well firefighter "Red" Adair and his daring crew. Men who, no doubt, ate fire for breakfast and who could give a pillar of glaring flames a wedgie and then steal its lunch money.
Size of balls = Saturn

Flying Trapeze Artist
Flying majestically through the air like an eagle catching a lift on the back of a falling angel, to the gasps and cries of the audience far below. One miss and you'll be hurtling toward the ground quicker than you can say, "What's wrong with middle-management?" Plus it means you can actually run away and join the circus, without fear of being trapped cleaning up lion crap forever. Now who doesn't harbour a secret desire to do that?
Size of balls = Mars

Hurricane Hunter
It's all in the job title: "Hurricane Hunter". Not someone who hunts a beast, but someone who hunts a Force of Nature. Good luck with that. Basically these are aircrafts that fly into tropical cyclones for research and observation purposes. Typically they're military squadrons with nerves made from the outer crust of neutron stars, who wouldn't know fear if it crept up behind them and kicked them in the ass. All their mail is addressed to THE EDGE.
Size of balls = Sun

Stunt Performer/Daredevil
Blame Evel Knievel, blame The A-Team, blame those Theme Park Wild West shows and their ramshackle, tumbling gun-fights. But it's got to be cool flying through the air in a Corvette, spinning itself through a flaming wall of doom, before landing on two-wheels and screeching to a halt inches from the Assistant Director's toes.
Size of balls = Neptune

Flying Ace/Fighter Pilot
Oh the glory. These guys (and gals, Russian Lydia Litvyak to name one) are the stuff of legend, charging through the air like swooping dragons. To be considered an "Ace" you need to achieve 5 or more aerial victories. If war is hell then Flying Aces are Hell's Angels - and there wasn't a homoerotic volleyball game in sight. These people didn't have time for wingmen, death was their wingman.
Size of balls = Milky Way

Bomb Disposal Expert
Not every career can say they've had an Oscar-nominated Hollywood action-flick (albeit an unconventional one) made about it. Actually, most military careers can probably say that - never mind. It doesn't stop this job from being so dangerous you have to wear a protective suit made from Kevlar, ballistic plates and Katherine Bigelow's unstoppable thirst for a gold statuette. - and that's not just to stop the shit constantly dribbling down your legs, but a suit worn because it might possibly save your life. But not if you're Guy Pearce.
Size of balls = Earth

Smoke Jumper
Sounds so mysterious, like it's from the pages of a Neil Gaiman novel. So what does it actually involve? These are firefighters who are parachuted into a raging inferno to start hacking down trees o head off a forest fire before it gets out of control. So, not only do you have to be able to parachute into a fire without dying, you also have to be able to fell trees without them falling on you, while all around burns a tempestuous campfire with attitude. Every fibre in your body would be telling you to turn and run.
Size of balls = A black hole

Lion Tamer
It has an air of magic about it, the taming of a beast so wild and majestic - what better way to respect it then rid it of every instinct in its body. Plus you could cultivate a handle-bar moustache and you'd be justified in doing so. When people mocked you in the street, and laughed at your two-century's old style, you could pull out a business card featuring a photo of you nestled in a lion's roar. Splendid.
Size of balls = Venus

Added: 710 days ago by Kevin Holmes | Posted in: Celebs | 7 Comments

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