Bowlin' bowlin' bowlin'

About once a year it's fun to eat your dinner at a bowling alley. Preferably while you're bowling. With people you like.

You get to eat garbage food and drink cold beer and fling a spherical object down a narrow lane toward helpless little pins, all while wearing shoes that millions have worn before you.

For us, tonight is that night.

Wahoooo!

Just in case you're wondering, M doesn't have to wear the Million Man Shoes. He has his own. And his own ball. Received as part of a package deal when he bowled in a league in Arkansas. I kid you not...the trophy is on the bar downstairs. You can either make your own jokes, or call any of his cousins to get theirs.