Team Spotlight - The Pin Heads

Hello People who suck at following simple instructions,

This past week we had over a 150 visitors to the blog, yet somehow only 19 of you ass wipes managed to click a box and vote for a Pimp Daddy. I should have known better than to count on you lazy bastards to do anything. Shit, you people can’t even reset the bowling pins without someone holding your hand; which means that I must be a complete idiot for thinking you could actually point and click.

Anyhow, for those of you who have heard that I was going to try and turn the Weekly Bowling Updates, and your replies to those updates into a book; well, there might be some truth to that, but I’m not confirming anything at this time. I will say that the idea did come to me after several people told me that they forward those Updates on to people who don’t even know who the people in our league are. I guess that after reading a few of them, people start to get a feel for who everyone is, in fact, people across the entire country now know that the name Nick Longo has many international interpretations; the most common of which is, flaming asshole. So, in an effort to help these strangers get an immediate feel for who our members are, I did a brief introduction of each team. This way, by the time the Weekly Updates start in the book, the reader will already know who everyone is.


Not exactly what I meant, but you get the idea.

Now, this will clearly be described as a work of fiction, but the ever compassionate King Pin will be happy to change your name upon request; and you can then decide if you’d prefer to use your real name. For example; PJ Buynack asked for a name change, so he became BJ Ballsnack, then decided to stick with the real name. The same held true for the award winning Ms. Naymick who briefly became Yvonda N. Mydik before she returned to her given name.


You can try to stay anonymous, but there are no guarantees.

With that in mind, I decided that I would veer off the Bowler Spotlight a little bit this week, and instead give you a sample of what an actual team introduction would look like in the book.

Chapter 13………………..THE PIN HEADS

In the mean time, I figure I’ll call the Bondra’s and get them squared away. John Bondra is a chiropractor; he used to be a chiroquackter until I threw my back out and had to use his services. I figure he’ll be good to have at the lanes in case I twist something while I’m bowling. His wife Carla is a piece of work; she definitely is funny and always has an entertaining tale to tell. I remember when I first met her; she was telling a story about how she was at the gym working out. She describes how she is seated on one of those nautilus leg press machines, and how it reminds her of being in stirrups at the OBGYN office. Then she says that her handsome personal trainer was adjusting the position of her legs, and in doing so, he pushed her knees outward. That outward push must have opened a space between the ribbing of her underwear and her inner thigh because at that very moment she and the trainer both watched a fruit fly escape from her snatch. So being quick on her feet, what does Carla say to the trainer? “That’s not mine.”


Carla releasing the fly................. which sent her handsome personal trainer into a major anxiety fit.

I figured that if she was willing to tell that story to me, there’s no reason I can’t tell it to whomever I want. And by now, I’ve probably told it 100 times. The amazing thing is that I’ve had that story told back to me by other people, the difference is that instead of fruit flies coming out of her shorts, there were bats, and pigeons, and hornets. Hell, someone even told me that Carla was using that area as a nesting place for cocoons and a breeding ground for tadpoles. Just goes to show you how people can take a factual story and turn it into fiction; I hate when people do that.

Her sister-in-law Dee Dee Bondra is listening to the story and says that the same thing happened to her, only worse! She says that she and Carla were at the gym and that she was on that same machine with the same handsome personal trainer, and he loads a ton of weight on the machine and tells Dee Dee to start pushing . She couldn’t budge it, so he said come on Dee Dee, come on, you can do it. So she reaches back and with every ounce of strength she has she pushes, and right then, she lets out the most enormous fart she’s ever had in her whole entire life. So being quick on her feet, what does she say to the trainer? “That wasn’t me that was Carla." Now rumor has it that it was a little “scarier” than just an enormous fart, but I like to stick to facts and will assume that she didn’t really have to change her diaper and wipe down her back.


Dee Dee showing off her most recent Mother's Day gift..... as her handsome personal trainer tries to describe the enormity of her blast.

Dee Dee’s husband Tony is standing right there listening to this story, and I have to admit, as he was shaking his head, he didn’t have that “I’m so glad I married her” look on his face. Tony never says much, when he does, he usually just grumbles. That’s probably because Dee Dee never stops talking long enough for him to get a word in. As I watch him shake his head, and listen to him growling, I start to see that cartoon character, the Tasmanian Devil. Some people describe Tony as a fireplug, or a tank, you know, short and stocky. Obviously, I’m a little more personal than that. He’s definitely the Tasmanian Devil; short and square from the waist up, and skinny little legs from the waist down. Granted, he’s got a little less hair, but other than that, we’re talking twins.


Like I said, twins.

Oh, and by the way, his brother John Bondra will likely be the only metro-sexual we have in the league. I imagine that he’ll stop by Saks Fifth Avenue looking for some Ralph Lauren bowling sandals, and perhaps a vibrant silk scarf.


Oh yeah. John definitely went on a shopping spree; but at least he's ready to bowl.

I can definitely see why John and Tony started dating those two girls. What I can’t figure out is why they kept dating them. Once you get past those ridiculous, though funny stories, they’re really not much more than a couple of endless talking, loud mouth, pain in the ass irritants. Nonetheless, by now it should be apparent that all of the Bondra’s are easily scoring an invite to My Bowling League.

OK people, there is a sample chapter; and rest assured, I’ve got an equally complimentary introduction for all of you.


Dee Dee bidding us all a fond farewell.

Likewise, a fond farewell,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list ...................and please join the crowd to follow!

Slimming Down the League

Hello people who survived the cut,

As you recall, I told you that we would be cutting two teams from the league this year; and, I’m pretty sure that I mentioned the reason would come down to who failed to show up most often. But for the record, the ever compassionate King Pin could not bring himself to ax anyone. So then, let it be known, that by sheer coincidence the two teams that failed to show up most often decided, “on their own” not to re-join us this season. What are the odds of that!

So, it is with great sadness (feigned) that I bid farewell to the old people team, The Bowling Stones. I do take comfort knowing that their Sunday nights will once again be filled with excitement as they shuffle to the end of the hall for Bingo, Parcheesi, and a little Go Fish. I’m confident that while they’re soaking their teeth in polident, sipping on some warm ginger ale, and tapping their canes to the sounds of The Glen Miller Band, they won’t even remember they were ever in this league.


The Bowling Stones, back home again.

The other fond farewell goes to the Grebenc and Gurney team, Alley Oops. Bob “Shrek” Grebenc and his charming wife “Cruella” may not have been the life of the party, but at least they were alive. I’m not sure what I’ll miss more, his blank stare, or her beady eye stare. O.K., I figured it out; I’ll miss Bob’s blank stare more, mostly because Jane’s stare kind of scared me.


Bob & Jane, an unlikely pair.

Their teammates, Mike Gurney and her husband Janet will just be too busy to commit to the leagues rigorous schedule. Mike recently picked up an evening job teaching knitting and needlepoint at a local nursing home….I wonder if he’ll know anybody…… And my goodness, Janet was just named the 3rd shift head diesel mechanic at the Lordstown Lawnboy factory.


Mike & Janet, they've never been happier.

Additionally, the girls from Boccigalupe will not be returning. Like the Gurney’s, a couple of them had some scheduling conflicts and I suggested that they should take the year off and leave in good standing. While I’m saddened, I suspect that this news will certainly please both the waitress, who never received a tip from them, and Terry Wise who was never able to sell a single raffle ticket to the stingy spendthrifts. Nonetheless, I’m sure they too will be missed……. but not so much. Therefore, I’ve taken the liberty of replacing the girls with a hodge-podge of mostly shit, but I figured, how much worse can they be compared to some of the crap we have in this league?


Boccigalupe, they'll be back sooner or later.

As you can see at the top right hand of this page, we are conducting a poll to determine who should take over the Pimp Daddy reigns vacated by Mike “The Whiney Bitch” Hirsch. It’s not often the King Pin asks you for your opinion; mostly because I don’t care about your opinion. However, the lovely Mrs. Lynch has pointed out that if I select Brian Himmel, people will think that I am a chauvinist. She then told me that if I break protocol and select Melissa Himmel, a female as Pimp Daddy, people will think that I’m a pervert. Then, perhaps in an attempt to comfort me, she says that I shouldn’t really worry about that because everyone already thinks that I’m a chauvinist and a pervert. While I must admit that did make me feel better, I’ve decided that I would give all readers, regardless whether or not they are in the league, the opportunity to offer their guidance. So, I am now kindly asking that all of you make a selection.

With that, you have now completed reading one of the shortest weekly updates in the history of the league. I’ll be back in touch soon, who knows, perhaps with another installment featuring a Bowler Spotlight.

Briefly Yours,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list ...................and please join the crowd to follow!

Bowler Spotlight - PJ Buynack

Who better to kick off our weekly member spotlight than our very own bowling booze cruise director, PJ Buynack?

PJ Buynack a.k.a. Julie McCoy
********************************

We all know him to be a very bashful fella, who usually makes himself the quintessential wall-flower at all the party’s and get together’s……Oh pleeeeeze; the guy won’t shut up; and wall-flower? Wall-flowers don’t wear those 3 foot long pointed toe, zip up shoes that the wicked witch of the East would have killed for. Nor will you find a wall-flower wearing one of the padded paisley print shirts that just happens to match his bedspread.

PJ wrapped in his blanket admiring his new footwear

Perhaps I’m just jealous that I don’t have the keen fashion sense that comes so naturally to Mr. Buynack. For example, it never would have dawned on me to purchase a pair of those turquoise Prada bowling shoes that he so proudly wears. Obviously PJ knows all the trends way before the rest of us. And yes he has been kind enough to share some of those trends with the rest of the league; as he recently assisted Mike Brown in picking out a new pair of open-toed, blue suede Hush Puppies, you know, the one’s that come with a free shoe horn. To finish our boy Brown off, Buynack got him a red mesh wife-beater shirt, and a pair of white lycra bicycle pants, all this, just in time for the Fourth of July. If I close my eyes real tight, I can almost see Mr. Brown strutting his stuff in that little holiday outfit; what a show off. I’m sure Tina Brown and all of her little body builder girl friends were green with envy wishing they could look as hot as Down Town Mikey Brown.

They match his

bowling ball perfectly


Mike Brown squeezing

into those white lycra pants

Having just said he’s willing to share his flare for fashion, please remember that it’s not without some indignation and a hardy scolding. He only offers his assistance after he berates you publically for your hideous JCrew polyester sweater selection, or god forbid your quadruple pleated slacks fresh off the Kohl’s clearance rack. And for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, don’t let him find out that you buy your jeans at Target, or worse yet, Costco.

Now this part is important, so pay attention. Should you find yourself at a party, and you’re wearing anything, anything at all, purchased at one of the aforementioned stores, do not, I repeat, do not leave his side. Here’s why; PJ drinks liquor as if he weighs 280 pounds, when in fact, he’s a buck forty at best. Mathematically, this means that any alcohol consumption after his first 47 minutes of drinking puts him in the dreaded over-served category. After two hours of continuous drinking his behavior is no different that that of a person hooked up to a vodka IV drip; and boy does that truth serum work good on him. You don’t leave his side because if you do, he’s gonna tear your wardrobe to pieces, then he’s going to go after your ridiculous Jan Brady hairdo, and finish you off by commenting on your Elvira make up, and that’s if you’re a guy. Women don’t fare nearly as well; he’ll let everyone know how you’re trying to cram your 50 pounds of trailer park ass into a size two pair of K-Mart pleather stirrups. If it’s not that, our boy Buynack will surely let everyone know that your wrinkly dried up skin can’t be hidden even with the 18 pounds of god awful Mary Kay cosmetics you plastered on your electrolysis starved grill. Then he’ll go after your snausage toes with the cheap-hooker colored nail polish, that are tearing the seams out of your sandals, which don’t even come close to matching your outfit; oh it just goes on and on, the guy is brutal. So, like I said,…….don‘t, under any circumstance, leave his side.

Look, we all know that I take no pleasure in pointing out other peoples flaws, but I’m doing you guys a favor by informing you of Mr. Buynack’s rants. You should consider this a public service announcement; and as usual, it’s just the King Pin looking out for you guys.

As for you PJ; don’t even bother asking people “do I do that? I don’t do that, do I? Because the answer is yes; granted, we all know you probably only mean about half of it, but nonetheless, you do. So Buynack, the next time you’re at a party and you’re thinking that you’re drawing crowds bigger than Liberace, just remember, it’s not because people want to see your act, it’s because people don’t want to be part of your act.

The almost Widow Tighe, an "over-served"

PJ Buynack, and the King Pin

Now why don’t you get your act together and do what you do best; travel agent shit. So stop talking people out of going on our booze cruise and start threatening to put them in your routine if they don’t go. Remember, they don’t have to be in My Bowling League to join in on the fun; we’ll take anyone,…… but I'd prefer if you looked for hot chicks, not dickhead guys.

Buynack, look for this.....................not this

As for the rest of you, I’ll be back with more valuable information soon, very soon.

Warmly Yours,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list ...................and please join the crowd to follow!

Bowling Ball Trophy Winners

Hello Fourth of You-liars,

Well, as it turns out, we will not have any video of the awards ceremony after all. I would have no problem telling you that the pitiful film quality and the horrendous camera work on the part of our former videographer, Eileen Toomey was the sole reason for my decision to forego the video clips. While that is true, the real reason for my decision is that upon review, I'm kind of a boring speaker, with very little entertainment value. Next year I'm going to come up with some scripted material, throw it on one of Blomama's teleprompters, unload my amateur camera girl, and I guarantee it will be much better.

In the mean time, here's a quick rehash of the evening. I arrive at 6:30, just in time to confiscate the last parking spot in the city. I immediately begin bitching at the manager of Claddagh for not mentioning the fact that there was an art festival at Legacy Village that night and that every parking spot would be taken by the time we showed up. I soon realized that it wasn't his fault, it was Greg Cira's fault. After all, it was that little bastard who screwed me at the last minute by telling me he was too busy selling signs for the St. Paschal football field to continue on with this mission that he volunteered for. If we had a dick head of the year award he would have definitely won, well, he would have certainly been in the top 10; I almost forgot just how many dick heads this league has.

Longo, Sell, Tighe, Wise, Cira, Grebenc, Hirsch, & Klingman... My Bowling League Dickhead sampler platter.

Anyhow, its time to recognize some exemplary performance by a few of our members. First, our girl Yo-Yo-londa walked off with the "I blow more than all the Stripper's combined" award with her league wide season low average of 84. Right behind her and winning the "I suck more than anyone else in the league except for Yolonda" award was Joann (Roxanne-Stripper #2) Michalos with an 85 average. Neil (George Costanza) Gavin walked off with the "Low Man on the Totem Pole" award for his league wide season low game of 58. He was unable to knock Gabriel Argie off her stool, as she maintained the record for all-time lowest score in league history of 51.

Bob Grebenc dethrone Nick Longo of the "Jackass of the Year" award, largely because his team failed to show up three times during the course of the season, and stiffing Ole Martin V. for the final weeks $40.

The King Pin with Yolonda the blower, and Joann the sucker.


Neil Gavin and George Costanza, or vice versa.

Nick, which in some small Guatemalen towns means "man with testicles on chin," Longo was not completely shut out. In his absence, Cindy Lembach accepted his trophy for the 2009 My Bowling League "Queen of the Year" award. Nick, which is also the Tibetan word for scent of the anus, won this award by being the only fella to hold the "Queen of the Week" title 3 times during the course of the season. (I should point out that this trophy was one of three handsomely crafted awards designed by the lovely Mrs. Lynch.)


Cindy Lembach accepting Nick Longo's Queen of the Year trophy.

Longo's counterpart, and this years winner of the yet to be named Sausage, and the title of 2009 My Bowling League "King of the Year" trophy went to Audrey Cercelle. Audrey who was not in attendance was represented admirably by Cristen Kane. Cristen, (whose husband Brian was a co-winner along with Brian Himmel of the "Queer Little Bitch of the Year" award) has refused to part with the winning trophy, and as I understand it, has cleared a spot on her nightstand for it. Audrey has recently filed a suit to recover the trophy and the case is currently being litigated in smalls claims court. While I'm scheduled to provide testimony next Thursday, I'm hoping that this matter can be resolved prior to that. Regardless the outcome, they won't likely be teammates next season.

Brian Himmel & Brian Kane our QLB's

Cristen Kane tells Abigail Sirselle that possession is 9/10ths of the law.

Speaking of next season, I need to know who is coming back, and I need to know soon. I will be sending a separate email to team captains, but please feel free to jump the gun and email me first with your decisions.

The good doctor, Patrick Getty was anything but a surprise winner of the inaugural "Lady Bug of the Year" trophy. I understand that he has already redecorated his office with this trophy as the centerpiece of his bookshelf. Now patients will not have to look at his eight degrees, all from the University of Chicago, and wonder why he couldn't get accepted to any other college. Instead they'll focus on the trophy; and I'm confident our boy Getty will beam with pride as each and every patient asks him how he "won" that award. I'm not certain what his answer will be, but he should respond with something like, "I received this award because my wife repeatedly made me look more ball-less than any other guy in the league".


Yo Getty, lifting an 8 ounce scalpel all day hardly constitutes rigorous weight training.

By the way, but not that anyone cares, Terry Wise, Sue Wise, Eddie Mellen, and Dee Dee Bondra all won something because they did something good having to do with bowling.

Lastly, we will be starting a My Bowling League Spotlight segment to this blog where will be highlighting one of our members on a weekly basis. if you would like to be "spotlighted" or have a suggestion on a person who should be spotlighted, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll be making my own selections.

Enjoy the Holiday,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list ...................and please join the crowd to follow!

Bowling Ball Raffle Winners

Hello people who pee without moving, and Chip,

I don’t have any of the video from the banquet to post just yet. It appears that while Eileen Toomey is quick with photos, she’s slow as molasses with video. So, perhaps I’ll just take a moment to cover our raffle winners and get back to you later with the trophy recipients.

Before I do that, I should tell you about the unofficial, My Bowling League “Husband of the Year.” When Edie and Andy Mellen show up at the banquet, my wife tells Andy that Edie was going to get some kind of award. So Andy tells Edie that she was going to win the biggest boobs in the league award; an award, which I should point out, we don’t have yet. I’m not sure what kind of guy would say something like that to his wife, and then spend the next two hours watching her shake and squirm and sweat, never telling her the truth, just laughing. Even when she gets back from the bathroom and tells Andy that she just threw up, he still doesn’t fess up. When she tells him that she may have diarrhea, he says “we’ll leave right after you get your award.” I didn’t realize how many schmucks this league had, but I’m definitely adding Andy to the list. If we did have the Biggest Boob award, I’m thinking Andy would win it. The truly troubling part of this story is why in the world Edie would think that I would do something to embarrass her, or anyone for that matter. I’m probably the one who should be upset.


Andy Mellen, not quite Husband of the Year

The raffle for the seats on the coveted Rules Committee produced two fine additions; Katy Profeta and Dave Toomey. Those difficult league decisions that previously fell solely upon my shoulders, broad though they may be, will now be shared amongst the three of us. Ironically, we’ve had our first meeting and have decided to add a Biggest Boobs in the league award to next year’s program. Dave brought the idea up, Katy said she was fine with it, and though I offered my opposition, it still passed 2-1.


I'm so happy Katy is on the Rules Committee, Dave, not so much.

Speaking of passed, the title of Pimp Daddy for the Strippers has passed from Mike Hirsch to either Brian Himmel or Melissa Himmel, but I’m not sure which. In my mind I pictured the title going to a guy, but Melissa actually held the winning ticket. The Rules Committee hasn’t worked this out yet; Katy thinks it should be Brian, and Toomey voted for Melissa. Both had good arguments; Katy is a traditionalist who firmly believes that there are certain occupations that should only be held by men; quickly citing priest, warlock, and pimp. Dave, who’s not typically a women’s libber, agreed but countered that Brian would not be suitable because he was just presented with the “Queer Little Bitch” of the year award, and that’s not usually on the resume of a high quality pimp daddy. I had hoped that the enlarged rules committee would make these decisions easier for me. It appears to have backfired and my burden is now greater. Therefore, I would welcome anyone to click on the comment section below and offer insight, for or against these individuals, prior to me casting the deciding vote for pimp daddy, or pimp mammy.


Melissa & Brian are already lobbying the Rules Committee for votes.

Speaking of deciding, Maria Gaeta won the “Name the Sausage” raffle and must decide upon a name for our mascot. As an aside, she also won the vibrating sausage, with rechargeable batteries. Now I’m guessing that she must have used that as a throw toy for her dog because I get a letter in the mail last Tuesday telling me that the replacement vibrating sausage that I requested would be shipped within two weeks. I was confused because I ordered these things, paid for these things, and received these things months ago. So I call the 800 number to find out what’s going on. It turns out that my address is still in their system but the letter was supposed to go to Maria. Apparently she sent it back because the motor was burned out and the batteries were not holding a charge. The fella said that they hadn’t seen one in that bad of shape before, and that they weren’t even going to try to fix it; they would just send a brand new one out. So, we’re still waiting on a name, a name that I should point out, will have to meet with committee approval.


Maria has never been happier.

For those of you who did not take advantage of the free lap dances offered by “The Strippers” in the back room at Claddagh, you’re out of luck. They are going back to their standard $3 dual lap dance fee; which I should point out, is still not a bad value in these trying economic times.


The Strippers, soon to be under new management.

Waiting for your help,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list ...................and please join the crowd to follow!

Chip Tighe Goes Fishing

Hello Banqueteers,

Well this is the new Weekly Bowling Update format. So if you want to continue receiving the updates, you’re going to have to sign up as a follower of the blog (located on the right side of this page). If you’re not on the current distribution list, you’ll have to sign up as a follower and send an email to (mybowlingleague@aol.com) requesting to be added to the list; or removed. (Everyone is welcome!) This way you'll be notified of any updates, and be able to post comments of your own; though I don't advise it. Trust me, it’s not that difficult. In fact, my sister Beth and my brother Terry, whom many of you met on the cruise, both found it easy to do. I mention this because both of them are imbeciles, which as everyone knows, puts them one step below a moron. Hence, if they can figure it out, everyone else should likewise be able to; well everyone else, with the possible exception of Chip Tighe who recently earned the life long title of major freaking idiot, which for the record, is two steps below a moron.

For the three of you who haven’t heard, our little fisherman Tighe got lost in the woods for 15 hours in a remote bear, wolf, and coyote infested Canadian forest. What an idiot. For those of you who think it could happen to anyone, you’re wrong. First, you have to be stupid enough to drive 12 hours north for the sole purpose of putting your entire body into a jumpsuit made of bug netting. Had this been his first trip across the border, he may have an out. But he’s been shimmying his dumb ass into that netting for the last 10 years. And every year he comes home with welts from being bitten by bugs. What an idiot.

So here is what happened. Chip and two of his equally stupid friends, spend 13 hours fishing, and sipping beer through a straw that they slid through their facial netting. When they return, Tighe goes into the woods to take a pee; (why someone would feel the need to be discreet when there isn’t a soul within 80 miles is beyond me) nonetheless; he strolls 15 feet into the woods. Now had our little Hansel brought Gretel, perhaps he would have known to turn around 180 degrees, follow the bread crumbs, and rejoin his pals. But no, not Jungle Larry, he decides that he wants to take a shortcut back. That’s right, a shortcut; as if being stupid wasn’t enough, he has to be stupid and lazy. What did he think he was going to do with the extra energy he’d be saving by cutting 2 steps off his journey? What an idiot.

Now, every one of you has got to be asking yourself, how could you get lost after 15 steps? How could anyone possibly get lost? Well some keen probing on my part elicited some valuable information. It turns out that Chip didn’t want to pee in front of his pals because he had a sudden urge to do what he calls his “circle pee.” The circle pee consists of Chip taking a leak while spinning around in circles. Apparently, Chip thought if he were moving, it was less likely that his itty-bitty privates would be bitten by bugs. When he finished, (bite free he claims) not only was he dizzy, but he had also lost his bearings. So, did he immediately yell to his friends for help? Nope, not our woodsman, he decides that he can find his way back on his own; no sense letting those guys harass him because he called for help. So how long do you try to find your way back before you decide to call for help; a minute, two minutes, how about five minutes? Nope, not if you're Chip, no sir-re-bob, if you’re Tighe you wait one hour and forty minutes. Yep, 100 minutes; I am absolutely certain this is what Forrest Gump meant by, “stupid is as stupid does.” What an idiot.

Suffice to say, no one heard him. I won’t go into all of the details of what happened to Chip as a “happy” 7pm turned into a” nervous” 9pm, which lead to a “tearful 1am” followed by a “cry like a baby” 4am, which eventually culminated into a “bartering with God” 7am. I’m not sure what Tighe gave up or agreed to do during those negotiations, but at 10am the local helicopter search & rescue team located their newest village idiot.

I hope I don’t come across as uncompassionate; so for the record, I’m truly grateful he was found. Cause if he wasn’t, I probably would have been stuck cutting his grass and doing all sorts of menial chores at his house. Then I’d have to put up with the lovely Mrs. Lynch grilling me about how come I’m spending so much time at the widow Tighe house, “what, all of a sudden you’re a plumber?” Like I need that shit in my life. Welcome home idiot.

Now I’m too tired to talk about the banquet, but I will come back with a recap soon, very soon. So get signed up, and in the mean time, here are some photos that Eileen Toomey took for us at the Bowling Ball at Claddagh.


http://picasaweb.google.com/eileentoomey/BowlingBanquet09?feat=email#

You can also check out the Jim Gaffigan video below. I’m confident some of you losers will be able to relate.

Fondly Yours,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list

Jim Gaffigan Goes Bowling - Video Clip

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Blogging may not be in my future

People kept saying " Marty you gotta get your own blog." I thought they said this because they recognized I had something of value to say. However, I'm now beginning to believe that these people simply don't like me. If you have ever tried to set up a blog-site you can probably appreciate the pain-in-the-ass-factor that is closely associated with this activity.

I envisioned a great looking site with photos, audios, videos, links to distant places, and other cool shit. Yet, reality is slowly setting in; and if my reality doesn't change quick, well, you've just read my first and last blog.

Irritatedly Yours,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

To recieve blog alerts email mybowlingleague@aol.com, and request to be added to the distribution list