A Handfull of Pins and All Out of Grenades

As mentioned previously, I have a natural talent for handling balls.

I am also a Discordian, which I haven't explicitly mentioned yet, but which may have become apparent to all you silent millions that have read these posts.

Which was comfortably confluent on Friday night when, as a work function or 'team building' exercise, I went bowling with some of those I work with. ANZ paid for everything, including the drinks and the taxi ride home.

All bowling alleys are shrines to Discordians, because the revelation of the Sacred Chao occurred in one in the San Fransisco bay area in the mid-60s. They serve hotdog buns in bowling alleys, but because I am a devout Discordianist I refrained from partaking of one, in accordance to the pentabarf.

Bowling involves a kind of one-step, two-step, three-step throw dance, one that drastically upsets the centre of gravity. It is also a form of exercise very much in favour of the dominant arm. I recommend it to every one who wants to develop barmaid's breast.

On the face of things you would be forgiven for missing the close correlation between the sport of bowling and the performance art of juggling. It is very subtle. The key is in willing the ball where to go. You need to visualise the end result of your roll. If the results don't match what you visualised, your muscles will compensate. That's the great thing about having a brain like ours. It learns on its own.

So anyway, I lost the game.

I need to go to church more often.