Brooklyn Bowl? It’s Fab. It Will Bowl You Over and Make You Look Like There’s a Bowl Under Your Shirt…

Preorder your ambulance. It will be a most delightfully-obtained heartattack.

Here is written the tale of wonder and indigestion that occurred last week at that holiest of integrated-entertainment holies… The Brooklyn Bowl. Laszlo took Lala and the long subway journey out to Brooklyn to explore the well-known scene of live music, multiple lanes of bowling, mammoth TVs, and Food.

Yeah, I did it: I capitalized, underlined and italicized Food. I also used the Oxford comma. Take that, grammar nazis.

Back to BB: Do yourself a kindness and take a Pepcid before you order because the fat content? Large. “Lala, I think you just went from size zero to Adele in 60 seconds,” said Laszlo. Lala whacked him with a shrimp, which he calmly picked off his shirt and ate.

(Note: before fans leave us in droves, Lala and Laszlo like Adele and think she’s perfect and beautiful and gifted.)

This girl does not eat at Brooklyn Bowl

You look like a guy who might have an extra Tums on him…

The fried chicken is MYTHIC. Cthulu will rise for this chicken. You will eat the skin, even if heretofore you thought eating skin was the province of Zombies and rare tribes in New Guinea.

Deviled eggs! They have them! These more-than-a-mouthfuls are topped with fried goodness. This was said to be most pleasant, but Lala can’t say for sure because Laz ate all of them. “I was trying to protect your girlish figure,” he said, sipping tequila. “Can you pass the knish?” (Yes, they have knish.)

Not a supermodel.

Oh, the shrimp! I humbly offer you this commentary:

“You ever hear of a Roman orgy?” Laz said.

“Of course, Laz. I took Latin for like, 10 years,” said Lala through a chunk of feta the size of Amsterdam.

“How they threw up and stuff so they could eat even more food?”

“Where is this going,” asked Lala.

Laszlo said nothing but looked thoughtful, stroking his beard. He stopped the waitress as she went by. “Um. Er. Can we order dessert?”

“Just so you know?” says Lala. “The Roman vomitorium thing?”


“It’s a complete myth.”


Post bread pudding, Lala checked to make sure Laz’s heart was still beating. He was looking peaked. “My nails look great against this white shirt,” she said. “Laz? Laz? Shit.”

Bread puddingCHOCOLATE-CHIP bread pudding. That is all.

“This is the murder weapon, Captain. This bread pudding did the couple in.” “You think it was a murder suicide?” asks the police captain. “It’s possible, sir. It’s just terrible what people do to themselves.”

The rest? Really great retro-carnival-esque decor. Visit the website for good pics, or better yet, go there yourself. Our pictures were taken with iPhones and don’t look good.

A wall of TVs above the bowling alleys.

Plus? (There’s more? says Laszlo. “Can’t we just go to my house or your apartment and watch TV now?”)You can pretty much wear whatever you want because it’s laid back. “No pants?” asks Laz. “No, Laszlo, you always have to wear pants,” Lala says. “Damn it,” Laszlo says.

“Poor guy is disoriented from all that chicken skin,” says Lala to the bouncer. “You can let go of his arm now, I’m sure he’ll stop screaming at them soon.”

So that’s our testimony with regard to that. Counsel rests, your honor. I think we made our case pretty well. You should go to there.

“Erp,” says Laszlo.

True love wears many faces. Sometimes it gets zits.

A sign by the bathrooms at Brooklyn Bowl. What’s in the crystal ball? Good family fun, that’s what.


4 thoughts on “Brooklyn Bowl? It’s Fab. It Will Bowl You Over and Make You Look Like There’s a Bowl Under Your Shirt…

  1. Pingback: My Corneal Abrasion is bigger than yours… A New Yorker loses her sight but gains three new doctors and a few pounds « Naked and Hopeful

  2. Pingback: Bad Moods Fixed By the Poetry and Puppets of They Might Be Giants at Terminal 5 | Naked and Hopeful

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