Triple D

Today I bowled a 122, only the second time in my recently started bowling career that I cracked the elusive triple digit mark. Is it a coincidence that this attainment of such a lofty goal occurred upon taking ownership of Pinslayer? I say nay, however you may choose to believe differently at your own peril. Part of what allowed me to enter the Triple Digit Club, or as we in bowling circles call, Chez TD, is that I bowled alone, unfettered by the heavy eyes of my coworkers/teammates. They are better bowlers than I am, easily obtaining scores in the 140 - 150 range, while I act as the team anchor however not in a steadying capacity, but more in a drag us to the bottom of the ocean capacity. In order to realize my full bowling potential I needed to be away from prying eyes, free of the burdens of their expectations. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of showing them the proof of my new found success, in the form of scoreboard picturephonery so I fear that in their mind, Friday's match has already been won. I can only hope that I can rise to their level, become the bowler they wish, nay, they need me to be and deliver them victory. Pinslayer deserves no less.

This weekend our house was turned into some sort of Critter Corner. On Saturday, as we frolicked in the front yard, and I attempted to teach my son how to catch a football, a fruitless endeavor for those keeping track at home, we were ignorant of the danger that lay in our midst. Just a short distance from us, under a bush, awaited a rabbit, and not just any rabbit, but a pretty goddamned dead rabbit. Luckily, despite jumping 10 feet away from the bush, as if Sasquatch itself emerged from the leafy shadows, my kids thought I was just being silly, or having another one of my usual uncoordinated tripping spells and we were able to spare them the sight of the Velveteen Homicide. I called animal control, as I would imagine that they would want to know if the rabbit died of rabies and I sure as hell don't know how to get rid of the thing, but they weren't around and a bunny corpse didn't seem quite like an emergency even in a town with a crime blotter filled with nothing but cases of dirty looks and harsh language. Instead, I was told to call back on Sunday. I figured the rabbit wasn't going anywhere, a notion that proved to be somewhat on the wildly incorrect side. The next morning, I checked his resting place and our friend was nowhere to be found. Great. As if having a rabbit on the property wasn't enough, now we have zombie rabbits. I'm hoping they eat only rabbit brains, and not human brains. I'm really not sure how this whole thing works. I'll keep you appraised.

On Sunday while I stayed at home with Abby, Linda and Ben went to the grocery store. At least they tried to, but there was a 3ft black rat snake hanging out behind Linda's car. I'm pretty sure it's the same one that used to hang out on the stoop, and may be the same one that left a good sized snake skin in our basement. Size wise, it was similar anyways. Not being one to shy away from a good snake handling, I donned my trusty leather gloves, picked our friend up and relocated him to another part of the yard. Now, lest you think I'm some sort of idiot who just picks up random snakes, I have a field guide to this state's snakes, complete with bunches of color photos, so I knew this snake wasn't poisonous. The leather gloves, and my keen handling of our scaly friend meant that were he to try and strike my forearm, he wouldn't be able to. It was an interesting experience. They're quite wily, those snakes and can move fairly quickly so that one second you're holding it behind it's head and the next you're holding it at it's midpoint. Granted, I didn't want to crush the poor thing, so I was unclear as to how much pressure I could put on it, but still. For the record, I wanted to bring it farther away from the house, but once I was only holding it at its midpoint, and the tender flesh of my forearm was well within striking range, Mr. Snake and I bid each other farewell. As I said, I would have wanted to bring him to the woods where food was probably more plentiful, however snakes don't respond well to soothing tones, so he was unclear as to my benevolent intent. Hopefully he was able to find something to eat in the holly trees on our property line. I think there's an Arby's in there run by chipmunks.

As you can tell, it's been a busy few days, what with the zombie rabbits, snake handling and stratospheric bowling scores. I can only hope that the rest of the week is sedate in comparison. Just to be safe, I'm putting out some carrots in the hopes that I can lure some more rabbits to the house. Better to give the zombie something to eat than make him look for something. Or someone.