Understanding the physical limitations of a manually propelled foam ball across the hard, uneven surface of the weathered inside/outside carpet could not sufficiently prepare you for the bloodletting involved in a typical game of dorm bowling. Could you clear the many doorways and reach the end? Would some unknowing, uncaring brute walk out of their room and unknowingly obstruct your clear pathway, removing your chance of defending your sad, but triumphant return to the daily ranking? Yes, it was all pathetic, but it all had deeper meaning. Possibly.
It has come to my attention that as we kipple through the various trilogies of our life, that we can listen to the Hoodoo Gurus, flail about like a chicken and be at one with the world. Trying our souls and jello molds
Posted by: Plarvo the Wonder Dog | April 02, 2004 at 07:49 AM
She has blood on her hands!
Posted by: Porgo, Mop Boy to the Gods | April 03, 2004 at 11:43 AM