She walked up to the lane, took a breath, swung back the ball, walked foward, then fell right on her fat face. That bitch. First of all, her shirt was a barf collage consisting of horizontal stripes (made her look fat) that were all the wrong colors. Second, she had bowled her ass off the previous game pissing me off and making me glad she busted ass this time. She fell over the foul line, landed about half way down the lane and slid the rest. slut. anyway, she got 9 pins still, she walked back and my team was like “nope, she gets nothing for falling over the foul line”. Her team was like “should you reset that score to zero?” She was like “It didn’t beep, i guess it counts.” Anyway, she got a spare total, and then a strike the next time, so that’s 30 points toward her teams score. My team was pissed. This cheating slut just upped her game and almost caused us to loose. Until my last frame. I was playing off a strike, got a strike, then got a spare. That’s right, final score for my team was 58 which means we kicked their ass. Sluts. Anyhow, then I drank beer with a one armed guy and this chick who likes me, but she has a kid, and she’s a chick. weird. I arrived home and my Dad asked me to go pick up White Castles. I drove his car, but got stuck in the drive way. His expertice was called upon to get it unstuck, which was funny cause he went outside in his whity tightys and mochassins to move his car. My dad is nuts. Anyway, I got the food, came home, dropped my parents food off in their room and headed to the kitchen to eat mine. Dad yells, “aren’t you gonna eat your White Castles on the bed with us like you did when you were little?” I said “I am 22, that’s kind of creepy.” But then I laughed and joined them for a family White Castle snack. That was my evening.