The Dreadful Bowling Analogy

It's only proper that I warn potential victims right away that I am slightly "askew", before you get lulled into a false sense of security with the harmless drivel that is sure to follow in future posts.

Now, if you ARE like me, you occasionally get the overwhelming urge to slip into shoes richly imbued with a glossy patina from hundreds of different feet prior to your own. Perhaps your heart skips a beat or two, as you imagine a beautiful, rich princess* (* in my case) slipping said shoes onto your feet, passionately proclaiming that - yes! yes! - it is you and you alone for whom these shoes were intended to fit like proverbial gloves! (Ask me about my horrible glove joke sometime.) Princess and kingdom are now yours ... but first, the buffet, award ceremony and nicely engraved trophy (besides the princess, of course ;-).

This is the illusion that I create for myself in order to make bowling even MORE enjoyable.

*** Quick aside and thought to ponder: Diesel's closely resemble (to me, at least) traditional, dorky, multi-colored bowling shoes. I've yet to see a straight man wear them. And yet, I think we'd all agree that bowling traditionally is a blue-collar, macho, homophobic pastime. So what gives? Would "the next" Village Person be a bowler? Is this an infiltration attempt by the gay community in order to gain equal lane access? ***

But what if the lanes are horribly warped and in an advanced state of disrepair? Wouldn't you want to know this? Wouldn't it be great if the sign out front said so? That way you could decide if you are sober enough to drive to the next "fun center". Well, consider this a sign, because the posts may get creepier from here on out.

Obligatory awful related joke: "I'm giving up bowling for sex. The balls are lighter, and I don't have to rent shoes."


Sorry. Thank you for visiting.