Saturday

Fuck Is Not a Mantra

Ever wonder how to kick a hangover? Early morning margaritas? A hot steam? No, and definitely not. Now yoga on the other hand, now there's a good idea. When your stomach is in twists and turns, why leave out the rest of your body?

6 hours of drinking done, 3 hours of sleep in and rather then licking the hair of the dog via mimosa - I am downward facing dog.  

So there I am, in a sea of women double my age and half my waist size with one leg above my head and a flexed foot in my big "sure, lets go to yoga" mouth. Nothing says good morning more subtly then the perfect ass of a 45 year old perched at eye level while sweat that both reeks and tastes like chardonnay drips at the corners of your mouth.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was surrounded by proof that this shit actually works, after the warn up (during which I broke a sweat), when the 50+ body of a 12 year old instructor announced, "okay, were ready to flow", I would have announced, "actually, I'm ready to go."