January 19, 2006

I prefer to give curiosity the benefit of the doubt, regardless of who it's killed. Bowling hurts.

A few quick thoughts:

Have you ever noticed how your left butt cheek gets incredibly sore after bowling? (Unless you're a lefty, in which case it would be your right butt cheek). I'm not kidding. I had a friend who swore this was true, and I made fun of that friend for approximately 18 days before I went and tried it out myself, this bowling thing. (Turns out I like bowling, and can even win some money from people who underestimate me, doing it.) For two days after the "bowling and hustling" incident, I practically had to free-fall to my office chair, my left ass cheek was so sore. And I work it out! Regularly! What?!

Do you think bowlers specially train to prevent the strain of this unique bowling ass-muscle? Do their jeans fit slightly more snugly on the left cheek than the right? Is their left tush something like PopEye's forearm?

Moreover, do you think you can distinguish bowling-league members from non-bowlers from a mile away on the beach, without even having to look for the mullets, Ranier beer cans and campers?


Who had the genius idea to call a lisp a lisp? I mean, how degrading must it be for lispers to have to say "Thorry, I have a lischp"? And what if you were the person they said it to? You'd need an umbrella.


I read once about an old man who inadvertently poisoned himself and died because he ate too many Red Vines. I know for a fact that the maximum number of Red Vines one can eat before wanting to vomit is 26 and a half. And I'm still alive. I wonder how many he ate?

Along a similar vein, Pat has gotten me curious about this: can you die from "tired"? Not, like, heat exhaustion or anything, I just really mean regular old, garden variety tiredness. Lack of sleep. You think?


I wonder how many of the people in those ads in the Seattle Weekly that suggest strangers contact them for random, one-time, no-strings-attached sex actually go through with it?


I wonder if anyone who had a gender-altering surgery woke up on the hospital table, took one look Down There, realized what they just did and wished he/she had a do-over.


I am also curious about black holes. If they're nothing, how can they suck stuff into them? If they're something, where is the stuff? Is it possible that they're actually NEGATIVE nothing?


And I would like to see what "live cultures" look like under a microscope. Everyone's always talking about the "live cultures" in yogurt and whatnot, and it has me thinking that up close they look like little french poodles or a tiny traveling gypsy band.

I'd really like some answers, people. These are not random questions for the sake of asking questions. I'm serious. I really wonder.

On deck: Random Selections From Mongo's List Of Greatest Love Songs Of All Time, a.k.a. songs she wishes were written about her

4 comments:

Mister Underhill said...

Well, black holes are just stuff with all the space in between gone. Electrons and such are amazingly small.

That actually makes it sort of warp things a little because there is all so much gravity that things go all einsteiny and it appears to all be in a single point.

I never had that problem when bowling - it's always the wrist that gets me....

Trebuchet said...

I'm a big fan of when things go all Einsteiny. I'm actually waiting for it to happen to me. Then I won't have to wonder about String Theory anymore.

If you're not experiencing the butt cheek drama, you should reconsider your form. Everyone knows you have to do that weird pose as you release the ball, where you're weight is all on your left foot, your right is bent and extended biarrely behind you, and your arms look like those of speed ice skaters. This pose is 100% directly related to your success at the game. It also scares novices, because you look official. Though it's not as big time as the ol' "spin" move, where the ball seems to defy physics and rolls in all sorts of directions, ultimately resulting in a strike. Which I have no desire to do, because that's a good way to get your geeky ass kicked. Also, my arm would break.

Trebuchet said...

Also, Mr. Underhill, on your list of Gym Taboos (something's funkied up on your comments box, so you'll have to take my response here):

I, too, have a list of gym no-no’s. As I once managed operations, collections and staffing at a Gold’s, I am all-too familiar with the meat-heads, wannabes and tough guys you reference. I would like to add a few to the list, however, from a female perspective, which is most likely unwelcome here.
1. Bobbleheads. These are the 90 lb girls who arrive at the gym in spandex hanging loosely from their atrophied asses with their large heads and buggy eyes and proceed to spend 4 and a half hours on an elliptical machine. They have no muscle tone, and they make me hungry/angry. Get a job! Get some help! God forbid, get a cheeseburger and a personality!
2. Meathead Groupies/Show and Tellers. These are the women who arrive at the gym with only sports bras and jogging shorts on (and typically those eighties scrunched socks and blinding tennis shoes that haven’t seen a good run, ever) and proceed to order a smoothie, lean against the bar, press their fake breasts against things, talk loudly about sex and plastic surgery, and ogle/seduce every meathead on his way out of the tanning beds. They couple quite nicely with the noicy, juiced up guys, who will later share their sexcapades with the gym’s front desk staff in some weird posturing which they believe makes them desireable to said front desk staff. This fails, sending them running back into the synthetic, stapled, suctioned arms of the MG/S&T’s.
3. Crusties. The people who use equipment before you, get it all crustied up, and then don’t wipe it down. This is particularly gross when these people smell like poop and/or appear crusty to the naked eye. Touching a crustied bench or bumping a Crustie will make anyone re-enact Ace Ventura’s shower scene.
4. Anyone who lays naked in the sauna and then tries to talk. Look, I know the naked sauna feels good, but I want to be in there, too, and even though I’m quite comfortable with nakedness, I simply have a hard time laying there, me in my towel, you spread hither and yon, making small talk about the Nordstrom’s Half Yearly sale or car insurance. It’s weird. Just let me me semi-nude and too warm in silence, please. And no eye/breast contact.

Mister Underhill said...

"Everyone knows you have to do that weird pose as you release the ball, where you're weight is all on your left foot, your right is bent and extended biarrely behind you, and your arms look like those of speed ice skaters."

that sounds deliciously durty!

yeah, i wanna go all ensteiny and then say something like "My god it's made of stars" and then become one with the universe. Or something.


Thankfully at my gym I am probably the closest thing to a meathead. God, I hate those guys. The 300 pound steroids guys who can bench like 20 pounds more than their body weight.

We dont have all the girls like that really - it is not a hookuppy place like gold's but sort of a 'family' gym turned gay gym.

I go late at night and it's basically the pimps (like me of course), strippers, and gay guys.

The list of annoying gym people is actually prolly endless, but I didn't want to go too long with that one. I think maybe I will write about the people in my gym I like just so I am not just bitching all the time....