The String & The Bowling Ball

I'm almost certainly sure that at some point during my lifetime I will discover time travel. It must all have started during my childhood. 'Future Me' must have popped in, planting the seeds of curiosity. I never actually met me; we were never introduced, but it happened, he was there. I mean I never actually met the tooth fairy but there's no doubt she was real. Real enough to punish me for my low quality molars, the tight-fisted wench.

Friends returning from their nocturnal expliots having exchanged tooth for silver and what do I get? Polo's, fucking Polo's. Elephants are rolling about in the isles laughing at the bum deal dealt me. Now whilst no ivory, my pearly whites deserved better. Fucking bitch!

Time Travel. Yes. Right, so 'Future Me' and me in a room.

"Hello", we most certainly would have said. "Now don't worry about the ins and outs of it at the mo, but just for future reference make sure you've always got a long length of string and a bowling ball handy; otherwise we'll never be able to crack this 'Time Continuing Alter State' thingy. But, but that's neither here nor there, not to worry, just remember STRING and BOWLING BALL............. Oh and you might want to consider learning Mandarin".

'Future Me' would have been interupted at this point by the freight train which always made a pass about now. Grabbing hold of the house and shaking us every fucking evening. I hated that train.

"Wow, this is crazy. Shit on a stick if I havent just cracked it! Right, Tally Hoo must dash, things to do people to eat. Take care....... i really have always been beautiful".

[an apparent side effect of time travel being the emergence of wankerish diction]

And that would have been that; the seed is sewn. Life existing only to discover that which im already aware of. All the while, humoring parents more than happy to cater for my apparent obsession with the Megabowl. I really fucking hated Megabowl.

So anyway, thanks for that. Adding yet another unwanten hinderance to my every waking thought. And why a fucking bowling ball? I hate that ball. School, university, work, dates; everyone making quite the reasonable assumption that any man so obsessed with a 10lb bowling ball must surely a) Display some sort of natural talent. I didnt. And b) Be everso slightly mad. That one is open to debate.

"Yeah, accident when I was 13, terrible; fingers all smashed up. Can't make the shape anymore"......... "Yeah, yeah heartbroken, really fucking gutted you know? Was that my chance? My opportunity to shine? And now we'll never know; all because of some crazy milkman with an attitude"

"Ball's just a reminder really, of the good times. Gets me through you know............?"

"Yeah sorry, i'll have a Double Cheeseburger".

Oh the shame! It's too much.

And how excactly does this whole 'Time Bundle' come together? It's a bowling ball and it's some string. And that's it. In what possible manner can they ever combine to form a reasonable theory, relative or otherwise?

Future Me is laughing quite a lot. Future Me is a cunt