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oh my gosh. i cannot believe how retarded i am. i just wrote about a half a million pages in this stupid piece of poop and then i pushed the wrong button so instead of posting, it didn't. :( i am so sad. :O but now i can lie and say that what i had written was my part of the story! yay! hm....alas, though, since it is gone, now, i shall have to recover and get over my loss, meaning that i won't be able to actually post my new part for quite some time. oh i am sooooo apologetic its hard to comprehend.....hee....*AHEM* uh, yes, i am very sorry that my "story" perished before it was published. its gonna take some time to rebuild that, guys, so bear with me on this one. ill be back sometime. *sniff*
posted by Pineapple Wednesday, August 30, 2000
but you see my friends....if you are really considering the unpleasantness of hemorroids then you have completely missed the point of my story. So please, remove your minds from the rear ends of those unhealthy people afflicted with that terrible ailment and follow me back to the bowling alley. Now, before i go any further with this story, i think you should understand my philosophy behind bowling. You see to me, bowling is a more than a game... it is an event. It is something that requires all your physical senses and even some of those non physical ones. I'm certainly not advocating to put ALL your non physical senses into it. That might cause some serious issues, such as, well, perhaps hemorroids.. but i don't want to start on that subject again. To me, the amount of energy put into bowling should equal the weight of your bowling ball (measured using the metric system, of course). It is, in a word, spiritual. Which, explains the need to be nude. And, of course, it also explains the need for the perfect pair of bowling shoes.
posted by Top Notch Wednesday, August 9, 2000
Have you ever known the joyous freedom that comes with nudity? It's like a fantastic symphony of love handles and embarrassing back hair. With a languid motion I retrieved my "Robert" from the ball shiner. "Robert" is what I call my bowling ball. I lovingly caressed "Robert" against my cheek. I felt his supple curves and greedily drank in his beauty with my transfixed eyes. My optical organs jumped about on his colorful surface. Robert was an official Teletubbies(R) bowling ball. They only came out with four of 'em! Lolly stared up at me innocently from the shiny surface as if to say, "Why are you naked with mismatched bowling shoes on? Excuse me sir, we may not have many rules or standards in this bowling alley/ musaka boutique but this is just disgusting!!!” Wow. Lolly was awfully uppity today. Wait a second…that wasn’t Lolly, not Lolly at all! It was the guy from behind the counter. He wasn’t looking directly at me but still seemed to be addressing me. For some reason I felt rather awkward. Well, no wonder!! I was standing right over the line!! Boy Howdy! How do you like that? Everyone was laughing and pointing at me on account of me disqualifying myself. Pretty funny, huh? Well, you know what’s not funny? Hemorrhoids.
posted by Zorak Ward Monday, August 7, 2000
Naked Teena: The next thing I knew, I was bowling in nothing but a smashing brick red shoe on my right and a cornflower blue saddle shoe on my left. I didn't even think it was wierd that I was in my birthday suit - I was like Adam before Eve had to go eat that gosh darn apple. Except my chipper Eve had dyed her hair blonde, and she was also my personal cheerleader.......
posted by Pineapple Saturday, August 5, 2000
there ya go, sd! :):)
posted by Pineapple Saturday, August 5, 2000
Sarah Diane (and Ciarra): A beefy guy like me should have no trouble selecting the proper bowling shoe, yet every time I go up the counter I can't decide which color to choose. They're all so appealing to me that I have literally stood there for hours trying to choose between the smashing brick red and cornflower blue saddle or the stylish beige and jungle green striped. And then..... one of them chose me. It was February 3rd - Groundhog Day. (Betsy:) The groundhogs were waiting, and so was I. The problem was, none of knew what we were waiting for. For example, why does a groundhog make the decision to come outside? And who tells him to look for his shadow or not to? And above all that does he even know the impact of what to him is probably a very insignificant action? These are questions that don't go away quickly and so, we wait. February 3rd came just after February 2nd. I probably wouldn't even remember the date except I wrote it on a check that morning to the "Adult Video Store" just down the street. A check which was later returned to me due to "Insufficient Funds". Don't trust your money to banks. They are all in the gambling business and when you think that your money is riding on the local pony races, well, let's just say that a waterproof box in the back of my toilet is the only thing that I'll trust with my hard earned dollars. For some reason, on that day of February 3rd, the "Adult Video Store" just didn't offer all I needed. The only other option was the bowling alley. My stomach turned at the thought of staring down the man behind the counter as I swooned trying to make a decision. I knew that even with the best positive mantras and even though I had six months of therapy behind me, this was not going to be easy. It simply had to be done. And most of all, it had to be done TODAY. Ciarra: Several handfuls of peanuts and thirty minutes of yoga later, I was ready. Not only had I made up my mind to go, I could feel in my bones that it was going to be a good night to bowl. It was Groundhog Day, for Heaven's sake. And three was my lucky number. I happily imagined which shoes I would choose when I got inside and shivered. I smiled to myself as I pulled into my lucky space at the alley. As I got out, through my peripheral vision, I noticed other customers eyeing my green Pinto with envy. Walking towards the greenish -yellow glow of the alley, I stopped and inhaled. I closed my eyes and let my nose drink in the aromas of cigarette smoke, body odor and grease that drifted out into the parking lot. When I opened my eyes again, however, I sensed that something was wrong. I continued to follow the light, but something at the back of my mind was disturbing me. Suddenly it hit me. I felt the crack of the glass against my nose as a chipper blonde twenty-something bounced through the entrance knocking me flat on my back. I heard another crack as I hit the concrete. I guess I won't be bowling tonight, I thought sadly with a sigh, as I sank into unconciousness.
posted by Zorak Ward Friday, August 4, 2000
arg -- I'm really sorry -- I can't find Teena's contribution to the story!!!! I printed it out but I can't find it anywhere!!!!!!! Can someone pleease post it? I'm all set to do my part..... Pleeeese!
posted by Zorak Ward Friday, August 4, 2000
