A bunch of us went bowling for my and Will's birthday (that sounds weird - I want to say "mine and Will's birthday"). It involved lasers and really awful pop/hoochie music, some of which I'm embarrassed to say I knew. A few balls were glow in the dark and my orange sleeves on my baseball shirts showed every piece of lint on them, what with the bitchin' black lights. We went for beers afterward, and I got nicely inebriated - not too much, but enough that I passed out in my bed while Steph and Ethan battled it out on Wii boxing.
The saddest thing is that my right thigh hurts like a mother fucker today - I am so out of shape that bowling injures me. I didn't turn thirty - I'm now ninety-three.