To be honest…

July 15, 2009 by

Aaron, I read your posts in their entirety this time.  And this, after much thought and internal debate, is what I have decided:

…you, my friend, are a crybaby pussy.  Style, you say?  No one was sure what the hell you were doing.  You appeared to either have cramps or trying some new form of performance art where you take on the form of a vomiting, wounded crab.

You wanna call me out?  You think you’re man enough to claim top dog position at practice?  Put your money where your mouth is.  Challenge me.

Okay, the real incident.

July 12, 2009 by

Details. You all want details.

Okay here they are I will let you decide who is in the right and I’m sure you will agree it is me.

XBA practices are sacred. Our church is alley. Our sanctuary, the lanes. This is why they take place on Sunday mornings. During this time competition is forbidden. We bowl for the love of the strike. We commune with our balls. We worship the pins. In this holy place competition has no home. It is not welcome. This we agree too. This is the law. But last Sunday Sidd Nullus broke that law, purposely and without regard. I was experimenting with a new technique.

It wasn’t going well.

He taunted me. He jeered at my score. He proceeded to mock me and my experimental technique.

Sidd and I have traded insults many times. We have been on the brink of physical violence on more than one occasion but never, ever, at practice. This is sacrilege, not to mention it breaks a few league rules and bylaws. It must be dealt with swiftly and firmly.

The Incident

July 12, 2009 by

Bowling practice is generally a good hearted time when I and other members of the XBA meet and hone our skills while putting competition aside and concentrating on our games and our friendships. But last week that sacred bond was broken by none other than league founder Sidd Nullus. I will not dignify his insults with a response on this site but I will say this. The gauntlet has been thrown and you Sidd Nullus will parish under the weight of Aaron Flockenfluke’s balls!

Are those bongo drums or are you just happy to see me?

July 12, 2009 by

Never trust your agent. This should be a given.

It is understood in the entertainment industry that agents are usually more than a little dishonest. This fact sometimes escapes me because I have known my agent for many years. But had I remembered this truism I would not have been absent for the last few weeks. For this I am sorry but as you will soon learn I think it will bring us all closer together. As many of you know I divide my time pretty equally between bowling and promoting the XBA, playing gigs in all corners of the world, delivering medical supplies to third world orphanages and going on alcoholic benders. Sometimes, if I’m lucky I get to combine them all. Such was my plan when my agent booked me and the members of  ‘Tastes like spam’ a band I was briefly a member of from 1972 to 1989.

I say briefly because during that time I was also the member of many other bands so the time I spent with them was generally brief.

The ‘Tastes like spam’ never had an American hit unless you count rising to number four on the charts in the protectorate of ‘American Samoa’. ‘Blinds eyes’ was however huge in Southeast Asia and on the many other islands of Micronesia. So when my agent told me we had a gig playing the Mango Festival on the island of Papua New Guinea I thought it sounded great. There was an orphanage there that I had brought supplies and clothes to in the past and I knew of a bowling alley where for six dollars you could bowl all night, with complimentary drinks and drugs and they would have a couple of fine young maidens polish you off at the end. Paradise found, if only for a while, and when he said we were booked first class round trip I could see an angelic halo forming around my agent Bernie Goldbloom’s bald head.

In and out in a couple of days Aaron, it will be great. And they are going to pay you a mint! Top dollar! You can do it all! It’s a dream gig! Six days later I awoke in a Papua jail with a splitting headache wearing Bermuda shorts, black socks a tie and suit jacket whose pockets were filled with parrot feathers.

Bowling for Dollars

July 12, 2009 by

My love affair with bowling began when I was a young boy attending Naturbrukgymnasiet Osby high school in Sweden. I was tired of learning about the natural world and longed for something more urban and exciting.

During the late night hours local television station would play reruns of American television programs. My favorite was “Bowling for Dollars,  hosted by the late great Fred Broski. It was only later that I learned the show was a franchise and there were many hosts across America.

I would watch in awe as Americans bowled their hearts out in hopes of rolling a strike on the Jackpot ball so they could take home a cash prize. This to me was the ultimate in fun! I would lie awake and dream of making a living from something as fun as bowling.

Upon this foundation I built my life. I vowed to never work a day of it. I have been many things, an evangelical youth minister, a heart throb and rock star, a sewage pipe repair technician, among others, but in none of these jobs did I ever work a day.

Take Bowling for Dollars to work with you today, and never go to work again.

My Credo

July 12, 2009 by

I believe every man worth his weight in floor wax should have a credo.

Not some panzy ass slogan like, work hard – play hard, but a well thought out philosophy of life, summed up in as few words as possible.

Mine is 127.3 pages, double spaced for easy reading.  I will, from time to time, share parts my credo with you, in an effort to make the world a better place.  Bowling is to love as sex is to carnivals. Just typing that profound statement make we week in the knees as if I have just rolled a turkey. I’m sure it may be a while until that sinks in. Take your time.

Xtreme Bowling Requires Xtreme Balls!

July 12, 2009 by

So was the headline of the Spike TV article featuring the XBA this weekend!

Yes Xtreme bowling does require Xtreme balls. Of course it also requires bowlers to use their intellect. Bowling has a reputation as a working man’s sport. All balls, no brains but trying to calculate the perfect velocity and angle to hit the pins in order to pick up that 7/10 split is, at its root, an advanced physics problem.  So if you want to be a champion bowler pull out those big balls, stick your big brained head between them and ram them down the lane.  Xtreme Bowling Requires Xtreme Balls!

Read the full article here: http://www.spike.com/blog/xtreme-bowling/77945

About time…

July 12, 2009 by

About time you started posting.

Why to Party…

July 12, 2009 by

Live a life of living. That is part of my credo. So when I was invited to be the guest of honor at the star studded premier launch event for a fantastic new comedy theatre last night I thought… good. I brought my bowling balls. I bring them every were I go for a few reasons.

1) In case a spontaneous game of beer bottle bowling brakes out.

2)  To impress the ladies and groupies with any of my numerous tricks or in case they just want to see my balls.

3) Self Defense.

Mission Improvable’s West Side Comedy Theatre opened last night at 1323a Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica California and, thanks in no small part to me, of course. It wasn’t just a party, it was a celebration of freedom, independence and the spirit of comedy. What better reasons are there to pack a bunch of beautiful people into a small building and drown them in free alcohol? None, there are no better reasons. You may try to think of some but you would be wrong.

And that is why to party.

Hello and you’re welcome very much…

July 12, 2009 by

I briefly considered apologizing for my tardiness in posting this blog but then I realized that it is you all who should apologize to me for making me feel rushed. I was, after all, out of the country giving a benefit concert to help a certain sheik in Bahrain raise money for his golden toilet fund. Golden toilets don’t pay for themselves you know. So please, in the future, when I am away, know that I am off working to make the world a better place. Whether it be performing a concert to my adoring fans from back in my rock star days or helping a wayward aristocrat with some worthy charity. Trust that the way of Da Fluke is always pure.

While in The Kingdom I had the chance to bowl at some brand new and very opulent palace lanes. They were highly polished, fast as lightning, with a robot that would both dry your sweaty hand and mix you a cocktail. But even in the midst of all that luxury I found myself longing for more. Something was missing. Was it the rush of adrenalin that I only feel when competing in the XBA or performing kick ass rock and roll in front of a stadium full of adoring fans? Was it watching groupies scream and swoon as I make my approach to the lane or strut my stuff across a stage surrounded by kick ass rock and roll? No it was something more, something; wait.. it was booze. There was no alcohol in those robot cocktails. It seems The Kingdom does not allow alcohol, even at the royal bowling alley.

Needless to say, I won’t be bowling in Bahrain again anytime soon.


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