Over the line!

It's many days late, and possibly a couple of sales-tax-free dollars short, but here are pictures from my last (for a while) evening of adventures at Melody Lanes in Brooklyn. The Rocks were closed, the barkeep was in fine form, and we were ignoring the full day of moving that awaited us.

Chris taunts Seth with the sweatshirt he'll never part with. Or maybe he's flashing him. Hard to tell, really.


Me, after one in many discouraging frames. Perhaps I consumed too many Rocks? Inebriation affects one's bowling performance, eh? Curse you, cheap beer!


Claire displays the tools of my undoing.



Megan and Gilhouse. Aw.


Then we had a session of up-close face pictures. Obviously. In and of themselves, they probably won't seem weird or funny, but know that each of these two photos was part of a series of like six abortive efforts at a decent up-close face pictures (the things you do under the influence, I tell ya).




Yeah, not sure why the foot is in this picture....


Megan selects her weapon.



Digital photography reveals that Chris does not, in fact, have pupils. Just like Little Orphan Annie.



In conclusion, good times were had (as usual), and drunk people shouldn't have cameras.

OK, Tobs. I think it's time we got cracking on a playlist (or, you know, "tape") that makes it worse. We can work on it tomorrow when you and Ol' Muddy come over to play euchre. I'll make some popcorn balls. You guys bring the mulled cider.