less than ideal

When life gives me lemons, I find they make excellent munitions for attacking passing strangers.

That has nothing to do with anything, really. Oh, I guess at a stretch I got some lemons yesterday. I'd basically only ridden a few hundred meters on my way home from work when I realised I had a puncture. Of course, it was "raining" (really somewhere between mist and drizzle on the Australian scale), so I was forced to walk home in the wet. On the plus side, it made it easier to chat with Franck, who graciously accompanied me for a while. After that, I had my iPod and a few episodes of Drunk & Retired to catch up on, so it wasn't so bad.

Getting home, I thought to myself, "fuck it man, let's go bowling". Actually, the plan had already been fixed by others, but I couldn't get the Lebowski quotes out of my head, so I really was thinking that. (Also, "nobody fucks with the Jesus", but I couldn't work that into the narrative here.) Anyway, I went bowling, with Emeric, Jeremy, Jerome and Franck. We bowled pretty much like crap, no-one getting over 114 on the day, but it was fun. I started out OK, with 110, and went downhill from there to an abysmal 77 in the third frame. Still, something that bears repeating.