I don’t know what the surface of a bowling ball looks like under a
microscope, but I’m guessing it looks a lot like the exxon valdez oil spill.
I went out bowling yesterday afternoon, and came home with slick hands,
despite having washed them three times. Even this morning, my fingers were
sliding off the keys as I responded to my e-mails. I’m going to have to go
find a vat of hydrochloric acid and take a few layers of skin off, I think.

Speaking of bowling… I have some kind of inexplicable fascination with
hurling spheres down a long waxed hallway. Whenever I go (usually about once
a year at some birthday party or another) I manage to kick complete ass. I
always think “Hey, if I spent a bunch more time at this, I might be -really-
good!” and then flashes of the movie KingPin and watching American League
bowling swirl around in my brain. It’s frightening.

I have every respect for star bowling “atheletes”… but I’ve only got one
life to live, and my path does not lie in the long shiny lanes of a bowling
alley, or the long shiny sequined pants of a professional bowler. Sorry
world, but I’m chosing to deny you a potential Bowling Messiah.