Death Threats Continue to Plague BTJ, More Importantly Meister is Besieged. All this and tips on how to host the perfect party

If you saw my scores last week you can see I was distracted. Beginning early last week I kept finding notes on my door addressed to “That Incredibly Handsome Bigger Than Jesus Bowler – Kevin Meister”. I’ll admit when I saw the envelopes I was intrigued. As some of you know I’ve spent the last 4 years as a frequent cover model for Handsome Bowler Monthly and I humbly accept my role of both having the best beard in bowling and being one of the 3 handsomest bowlers in TNT, as well as top 10 nationwide. So notes like this aren’t a surprise. However the contents of the letters themselves chilled the blood in my veins. Take a look at the first one I received:

Great grammar right?

I know what you’re thinking, “Hey Kevin, why don’t you dry your vagina and man up?” While I’m sure my vag could use a little powdering, this wasn’t an isolated incident:

I think the gremlin sent this one; she wants my sac, but then again who doesn’t?

Shooting me in the heart is incredibly specific. I’ve checked the handwriting on that one against other letters and even notes from my family. It isn’t a match for family members, but it is a 100% match for about 15 other notes I received; all of which become increasingly more terrifying and are also completely unprintable.

After last week’s stunning upset by AWOL, the notes stopped…until yesterday when I received this one:

Okay I figure just regular fan mail, I’m used to it. Being the back bone of the most show-stopping, electrifying, dynamic, crowd-pleasing bowling team to ever grace the lanes means people look up to you. Then I turned to page 2 of the letter.

Yep, the threats have started again. All addressed to me, all terrible. I know it seems like the work of El Presidente and il Padrino, but this isn't their style. They're back room bitch boys at best and like to do their dirtiest work behind the scenes. These are from people who have imagined slights against them from me. Which is odd because I'm all about love baby.

 I took this one to the police:

The police scoffed at me and told me to go ask the Gard Dawgs for help. Seems like someone is still smarting from a certain firefight on the streets of Santa Monica*. The thing is, our entire company of Adam “The Guv and I like it” Gard trained Gard Dawgs ritually killed themselves late last Thursday because they felt they were responsible for our upset loss to that awful team AWOL. You didn’t see it on the news because, well, we own the fucking news.

 So once again I’ll be watching the rafters for snipers, and having people test my beers all night long again. I could focus more on my game if a certain teammate, Adam Gard, would bring me the proper protection against being shot in the heart. But maybe my team doesn’t want me around anymore. Maybe they’re angry that I’ve built BTJ into one of the largest sports organizations in the universe. Maybe they’re upset that under my leadership I’ve increased team revenues a kajillion percent. Maybe Adam is just being a jerk.

Hey remember a paragraph ago that I ended with calling Adam a jerk and saying my team was jealous? My bad, I was in a really weird place and I didn’t mean it. I’m just worried that if I get taken out, who takes my place on the team? I’m not talking about being the more consistent bowler on the squad, I’m talking about the day-to-day. So sorry about that squad, I’m feeling totes bad about what I said. Let's kick ass tonight.

Meister out

*See earlier posts for details on this and other thrilling BIGGER THAN JESUS adventures