…d’ere’s poo in there

11 09 2010

Hurt my foot a couple weeks back, doing some team building silly adventures on the cape (woo! It sounds so worldly “on the cape”) The team building adventures were of the tennis-ball meets scuba-fins meets make-an-ass-of-yourself-with-your-teammates variety. So I haven’t been able to practice much. Yoga that is.

Take the resulting +/-10 bruises (we won 1st!), throw in a holy trinity of crapdom (big zit, cramps, and a lovely fever blister – as in “say hello to my little *friend*”) and maybe that’s attributing to my inexplicably morose world view of late. Sorry kids. Back soon in earnest, I promise. Kinda feel like I’ve been “mailing it in”, all around. Don’t sweat though, because I ain’t brokted down quite yet. Proof in point: Here’s a belly laugh from this morning to share for your own enjoyment:

Just cracked a new book Neal Pollack’s Stretch: The Unlikely Making of a Yoga Dude. Yeah, yeah, I have an unreasonable affinity for memoirs, akin to other strange affinities found in the world, like Funyuns, discoballs and the nation’s still ongoing obsession with various and sundry reality shows. (Stopping here, lest this become a whole ‘nuther flavor of post entirely.)

But yet again, I disgress. Focus, dear. (Pronounce this in your head as “fuckus”. It’s much funner that way, and I promise to explain why someday. But not today.)

Sheesh. Again. FUCKUS!

So. Yeah. The Yogi dude book thing. Barely in the first chapter, which includes such literary gems as these, both of which are clearly destined for the literary quote Hall of Fame, if such a thing exists:

  • “…. bending forward over my knees, I caught the faint and unpleasant whiff of my own ass…”
  • “….I’d expected poses with flouncy names, like laughing daisy, or bejeweled vagina….”

(Thanks for the giggle Neal. Funny as shit thus far, but I won’t be next to you in class, no offense dahlin’.)

But the kicker (still with me?) is this’n:

“Like a freshly made vampire, I’d only just begun to test the limits of my thirst. Yoga was about to become the organizing principle of my existence. Also, much to the chagrin of non-yogis I knew, it became pretty much the only thing about which I ever wanted to talk. In the walk of life, I’d stepped in a big pile of yoga doo, and nothing could get it off my sole. Or my soul.”

Um, yup. But at least this kind of poo doesn’t stain the carpet.

Holy shit. Where’s the Tylenol?

Hey, anyone else craving funyuns?

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3 responses

13 09 2010
izziedarling

Oh soooooo good! Namaste, sister!

15 09 2010
geauxgirl

A yogi friend used to think they were saying “y’all must stay”. Gotta love it.

10 04 2013
Mya

Please call back later diflucan candida demonstrated mutual benefit for underserved populations and the collaborating

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