It snowed on Good Friday, so we sculpted a snowbunny. It was so convincing that the cat thought it was real. Well, it was a real snowbunny, but the cat thought it was a real fleshbunny. Then she tried to eat its ear, without much success. Cruel, I know, but what else can you expect from a kitten named Deathbringer?

After exams on Thursday we went bowling. It was a good Thursday, but not Good Thursday, because there is no such day. I met Roxanne’s friends Andrew Ferrence and Shalina Edge (no relation to “The Edge,” I asked). Andrew Ferrence is starting a dodgeball league next fall at UNBC. I rock at dodgeball. I was like a dodgeball sensei in grade 6; sometimes skinny is good. Andrew Ferrence is also good a queue-jumping, he had a Run-D.M.C. t-shirt with soft looking lettering, and he and Shalina are going to Cuba next week. They are cool. It’s like that, and that’s the way it is.

I bowled above my expectations. First I was bowling with the watermelon ball and the light blue one (which I thought of as the Pastel Blue Sphere of Eternal Destruction), but I switched to the pink ball because the first two were too light and always left one or two pins up despite my flawless technique. Plus pink tempers my overwhelming manliness. It's hard not to be manly when you are 145lbs and your mom buys most of your clothes for you. Shalina bowled a tribute to Todd Bertuzzi. Her score was 44 after 7 frames and stayed there for the last 3. It’s a tribute because his number is 44 and he is also inept. I am comfortable making him the scapegoat for the demise of the Canucks’ season. We loved you that one year when you scored 48 Todd, but now it’s time to go away. Far, far away.