Blind bowler rolls perfect game in Iowa. Of course it doesn't make sense. Maybe it's like that old thing they used to say, something about when you have an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters, eventually, one of them will pound out a best-selling novel. It would have been so tasty if his name had been "Luke" or "Skywalker" and we could attribute his mad bowling skills to using the force or some such.
Jealous much? Uh, actually, yeah, occasionally.
Oh well. Here's a song for a Saturday:
Mushaboom by Feist