Take the skinheads bowling

I’m going bowling tonight.

Night bowling unfortunately, but as it’s the only place I can easily travel to, I guess I’ll have to get used to it.

Things to remember for bowling.

  • Drink enough beer to loosen up, but not enough to drop the ball behind you as you run up (that’s called a whoops).

  • If you get three strikes in a row, that’s called a turkey. This is purely academic, it’ll never happen.

  • Only chavs go bowling, if you go, then you’re a chav, so you may as well dress like one. Bring a baseball cap.

  • The chap who fixes any problems you have with the equipment is called a pin monkey. If you call him this though he’ll hit you in the face with a large wrench.

  • If you see anyone in a purple jumpsuit, don’t fuck with them.

    I was gonna take my real camera, but it’s too difficult to keep an eye on when I bowl.

    Am taking a little compact, will see if I get any shots.

  • Dry January

    I am once again doing Dry January.

    Pretty much for the same reasons, feeling healthier etc.

    But also to make me feel like I have some degree of will power and control over my life.

    The best way to get through it is to avoid pubs (they generally hold no appeal when sober) so I tend to do that.

    Last night though I went bowling.

    I’ve only once bowled sober and that was when I had a huge hangover so technically I was still drunk.

    It was hard work, out of 8 of us, 3 of us were abstaining.

    I thought it’d be fine, the bowling would take my mind off the beer, but it didn’t really.

    We got through it, but agreed not to go bowling again until Wet February.

    Oh, there had been much theorising over whether beer affected your game, but I’m consistently rubbish so I couldn’t tell.

    Night Bowling

    On Saturday I went bowling.

    I like bowling. I find it fun.

    Unfortunately the bowling alley I went to on Saturday had a different definition of fun.

    For them, bowling wasn’t fun enough, to add more “fun”, they turned the lights down and the music up.

    They then called this “Night Bowling”.

    So, instead of relaxing with friends and chilling out between throws we found ourselves shouting at the top of our voices to make ourselves heard and struggling to make out the lines on the lane.

    The end result was that we all bowled terribly, left early and vowed never to go back.

    Seemed popular with the locals though.