I Like Your Balls

"We should go bowling" my friend says to me after the gym and subsequent apple strudel French toast brunch.

A high school friend was in town for the hat trick of Jesus rising from the dead, commonly referred to as "Easter".

I didn't particularly feel up for the task of being hungover in front of my entire family for the holiday, so Bowling sounded like a good idea. And call me crazy, I've always thought the ugly bowling shoes were kind of cool. You know...minus the Athlete's Foot and gangrene.

We walk into the bowling alley and I subconsciously feel guilty: What Would Puffins Say? I warn my compatriots that in the event they play country music, I'm out. We are directed to our lanes and I spot it out of the corner of my eye. Big. Buck. Hunter. I'm not sure if it was that, or the obese Hawaiian girl who lobbed the ball down the lane like a softball, but I tell you, boy howdy! That was some darn good tootin fun.