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RYAN FAN CLUB MERCH
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February 11, 2007
Bowling is fun. It's not very often that I do it, because not many of my friends would find it interesting. I just like the idea of throwing a twelve pound ball at ten innocent pins. I mean really, those pins never did anything to anybody, and yet this random act of violence is okay in our communities. God bless that fucking idea.

So I went bowling with a bunch of people I work with. I didn't actually bowl with each individual who showed up... no, no, I don't actually like the company of everyone I work with, so I just clung to the few people who I can keep an intelligent conversation with. Seriously, there's one guy I work with who doesn't speak a lick of english with the exception of "Busy Busy" and I'd much rather listen to him than some girl yammer on about text-messaging with her cell phone. Don't get me started on my hatred for cell phones.

I'm off track.
On to bowling!
Above you will notice my bowling shoes. I didn't pay for these, but I could see myself owning a pair someday. They were pretty comfortable, and really stupid looking, and the laces reminded me of my blessed Converse All Stars. Once the shoes were on, it was time to bowl my pretty little face off.

We were a team (nay a squadron!) of five ferocious bowlers, with ten white pins of opression in sight. Our heavy balls would show no mercy on the pins that quivered at the sound of our footsteps. Our footsteps showed no mercy on the floor as our fucking retarded looking shoes inched closer and closer to the alley. Our team, which donned the name Dr. Ryan and the Women, consisted of the following ball-rolling superstars:
Ryan... that's me... not necessarily the captain, but I was the only guy, so in a sexist world I'd be in charge.
Dana... my fiance... you might say she was the ringer for the team because she doesn't work with the rest of us.
Jess... the underdog... a fighting chance with a fight to prove.
Jen... the mad Russian... okay, she's not really Russian, and she's not Communist, but she just turned 19 and drinks Russian Vodka.
Christine... the only one there who regularly bowls and should've scored the most points.

The battle raged on, and halfway through we stopped for free hot dogs and fries. And cake. God, do I fucking love cake. At the halfway mark I'd racked up 100 points... pretty good for someone who plays once a year. I had a pink ball but it wasn't doing me any good. So I stole Dana's green ball and used it.

The second half wasn't as successful. Mostly because I was thinking of cake. Fuck... I love me some cake. I added another 77 points to my score to be our team's point leader. If this were the NHL I'd get the Art Ross Trophy. But this isn't the NHL. Speaking of hockey, the Stanley Cup was in my town this weekend and I missed my chance to get my photo taken with it. Even worse, I missed my chance to sneak up to it and carve in "Mighty Ducks of Anaheim" on the side.
My own personal victory came from the fact that next to us was a guy who whooped my ass in a game of pool about four years ago. He beat me so bad that I still can't find the piece of my ego I lost that day. He let me break and then it was over. But that was then... and today I learned that he's no good at bowling. And I outscored him. Score one for Dr. Ryan and the Women! Overall, our team was pretty average. There was some definite improvement on the bottom half of the scoresheet. Jess, who started out with gutter balls, managed to turn her game around a full 180 degrees. Dana decided she preferred black balls over pink and green ones, and that helped her tally up more pins too. Jen, consistently knocked the pins down as if to say "Fuckin' up your shit, bitch-ass!" And Christine nearly outscored me for top place.

So the moral of the story is that in order to shake things up in this world, you just gotta put your balls on the table and see what happens. Goodnight~!
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