A friend invited me over on the pretense of returning a borrowed book. I say pretense because, I am convinced the ulterior motive was good, old-fashioned torture. When I arrived, it was already in motion. Seemingly innocuous, it stood off to the side like a wallflower, like the middle school student who came to the dance without a date. "Would you like to play a game?" I'm reminded of an old movie with Matthew Broderick and Dabney Coleman. "No, I have to get home." It was true; Grey's Anatomy was not a repeat and besides, I'm a proud couch potato. "Just one game... it's awesome!" Finally, I relented to try baseball, because "all you have to do is hit a home run". Yeah, like point and shoot with an M1 Abrams Tank. No problem. Thirty balls later and I'm breathing like a pervert with a burn phone. "Let's try bowling." Bowling sounds good... no real athleticism involved. My kind of game. Turns out, I haven't bo...
Musings of a Netjunkie