And what's up in the peenee world? Our dear friend Secret Agent Fred has taken to forwarding me artistic images he finds whilst out and about on the internet.
God bless Fred.
Also, I have resumed yoga (and can I reiterate how annoying yoga is in that no verb actually relates to it? I'm "doing" yoga. I'm "practicing" yoga. I'm "performing" yoga. Yuck. Sounds more like I'm contemplating taking up porn.) Anyway, I'm back on the yoga train. I purposely did not say anything about this because there is nothing worse than announcing your plans for improvement and then you sort of drift off, but your friends remember and somebody asks "So how's the (fill in the blank: yoga, meditation, jogging, porn, whatever) going?" and you have to come up with some lame answer that doesn't reveal you failed to last three days on the path to enlightenment.
When R Man got sick and I started seriously taking care of him, I blew off yoga. I wasn't in the mood for much of anything, spinal twisty flexy things included. But that's been almost two years and I was stiff and achy so last month: Yoga-time!
Why yoga? Because I was one of the sissy girly boys who could neither throw nor catch anything and couldn't sprint to the end of this sentence, I was always uninterested in physical activities until I stumbled on yoga. I was thrilled to find out that, sincee I'm double jointed, all those bizarre looking poses are a snap for me. Hoo hoo, take that, homphobic, moronic junior high coaches of my past.
And when does the meditation thing start? I never have any of that higher minded crap in my yoga. I'm too busy trying to get the poses down right so that I don't tear my hamstring (again) and then I'm thinking "I wonder if there's any Butterfingers left?" so not much meditation.
The only thing I refuse to indulge in is yoga classes. I get in there and the teacher says "So now put your right hand on your left knee...." and I freeze and think "Which one is my left? Which one is my hand?" Plus you're always surrounded by these skinny bitches in their Lulu Lemmon yoga togs and their tidy-ass ponytails doing all the poses just a tiny bit better than the teacher. I know you're not supposed to be worrying about how well anyone else is doing, but get real. I wind up spending all my energy on refraining myself from slapping them.
So I do my yoga alone at home and just wearing a tee shirt. I know I'm leaving myself open to a bunch of low-minded comments here, but I hate wearing pants for yoga. There is absolutely no sweatpants in the world loose enough to be comfortable when one is trying to see how far one can bend over backwards. Fortunately, I have no mirrors in there so I'm spared what is probably pretty close to this:
I swiped this from MJ over at Infomaniac. It was attached to Mitzi's recipe, but I suspect it is actually a snap of MJ. Goddam paparazzi. |
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ReplyDeleteWhat a magnificent chakra, in the first picture. Poor MJ, time had treated her with no charity.
ReplyDeleteSo true, sad really.
Deletedown dog indeed.
ReplyDeleteLooks sort of dusty, too.
DeleteMy chakra is in my groin. I'm too self centered t.o think about the pleasure f others unless I means pleasure to me.
ReplyDeleteGosh, it sounds almost like you're GAY.
DeleteI like chakra, slapped between buns... Jx
ReplyDeleteWith secret sauce.
DeleteI'm surprised you haven't joined one of those nude yoga classes. Or started doing yoga porn. After all, you may just find a niche market for that -- as long as the Evil and Adorable one doesn't cover his eyes when he spies you freeballing all over your yoga mat.
ReplyDeleteI really, really do not want to see those skinny bitches in the nude.
DeleteIs there an "Unfriend" button on Blogger?
ReplyDeleteAnd here I was planning on knitting you a poncho with Mitzi. A saggy, droopy, cover-it-all-up poncho.
DeleteOh fine. Now I'm worried about stumbling into the pantless yoga scene while I'm there.
ReplyDeleteIf that happens, be sure to take pictures. I'm sure MJ will be glad to post them on her blog.
Delete!!!!!Double jointed!!!!!
ReplyDelete