file under: bowling for columbia

My friend Shing works for Drew Barrymore's production company Flower Films. On Saturday, she invited me to the Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle (apparently, Sony doesn't want people calling it Charlie's Angels 2) wrap party at a bowling alley in Studio City.

I had planned on seeing The Hours that night.

Open bar…The Hours…open bar…The Hours

What would you do?

Last time I visited the [San Fernando] Valley, I went bowling in Canoga Park with a Hindian guy and a black chick — both of whom I barely knew — at Jord's request.

The party was held at bowling alley called SportsCenter. They should have renamed the place BestDamnSportsShowPeriod for the night.

Four giant screens set up above the pins showed the three existing Charlie's Angels Reloaded trailers on loop. I wish I could wake up every day and say "good morning" to a box too.

There were two Mexican girls liberally handing out quarters for guests to use in the arcade. I thought about pocketing the $10 in quarters I had, but then I saw the Smash TV cabinet.

Smash TV owns.

I think fighting games were better when you didn't get to switch between multiple fighters. It's really frustrating for button mashers like me. I wanted to play as Juggernaut but I somehow kept switching to Hulk and Venom.

Cars, skateboards, snowboards, scooters, motorcycles, wave runners, snowmobiles, bikes — I wonder when arcade game manufacturers will run out of "extreme" sports to digitally tame.

The SWAT team in the Area 51 game is really ineffective. Zombies appear right in front of them and they just stand there. I can't shoot them all, dammit!

As I left the arcade, I saw DEMI MOORE (who plays the bad guy in Charlie's Angels Hit the Road) with her kids at the front desk.

"Hey, you need help putting on those bowling shoes?" I asked.

"No. Thanks."

Prepubescent bitch…

I got some food and then Shing, her co-worker and I decided to go bowling.

There was a television overlooking our lane set to ABC's Saturday night movie What Lies Beneath. Nothing like polishing your ball while watching Michelle Pfeiffer rub her crotch.

Between turns, I saw Crispin Glover (the Thin Man) dressed in a suit schmoozing with some girl. I walked up to him and said, "Hey you, get your damn hands off her!" Then I threw my Coke down in indignation, returned to my lane and resumed bowling.

I didn't bowl anywhere near three digits until we decided to use bumpers, and it was around that time that cosmic bowling started.


I don't like this cosmic bowling. Whose idea was it to combine bowling and raves? I wonder if poor and/or cheap e-tards spend their Friday nights at a local bowling alley. If there's any sport that should be cosmic, it's cheerleading.

Amidst the gay-oss, I saw McG (the director of Charlie's Angels: Miami) and approached him. We made eye contact, but before I could say anything, he turned and walked away, I guess to go join the cool people…in the fastlane!

I was blown off by a guy whose name is a fucking prefix and the letter G.


When it came time to leave, I told Shing I was gonna piss, grab some cookies and then moonwalk outta there.

I can't dance.