Strikes Con Queso

You may have done something cool tonight.  Perhaps you watched something good on TV, maybe you went to the gym, possibly you even walked on the moon.  Well, I got you beat, because, with my new work group, I ate unhealthy appetizers and went bowling.  Why do those things go together, always?  Oh yeah, and I guess it should be pointed out that most everyone else in the "alley" was complementing their no-tread shoes on a slippery floor by downing stabilizing glasses of beer.

Let it be known that I am a master of bowling in much the same way that I'm a much sought after expert in hair care products, although I may have forgotten a few things since male-pattern baldness kicked in at the age of 19.  I have heard the snickers (and tonight I sensed them from a crowd too polite to give sound to their thoughts) as others marvel at my bowling "form."  (emphasis on the "air quotes")  Yeah, I'm pretty bad.

So here I sit with a bit of a blister on my toe and I'm actually slightly sore.  Pitiful, I know.  Still, a good time was had by all, including the HTF.  An odd thing with bowling is - we pay money, probably too much, to roll a ball.  To roll a ball?!  To roll a ball while we wear funny shoes . . . that we also pay for.  It's understandable that we get distracted by cheesy-fries and mozzarella sticks.  Some make little funny jokes about bowling.  But we've all done it and we'll do it again.  These are the relics of "culture" - and culture is always better with a little cheese on top.