Reasons why i’m never doing a body balance class again
Oh my fucking god, what just happened? I have woken up Monday hung-over from Thursday night. I seemed to have fallen off the wagon and down the face of a mountain. What little self-control I had, has disappeared and gone. Thursday I drank 4 cocktails, 3 pints of beer and a very strong Vodka orange. So not the worst night but we hit it hard, I did have a great time. Friday rocks around and we are back on the cigarettes full time. I can’t smoke them fast enough. In fact during my debaucheries I smoked 4 packs in 4 days. I was then greeted by Saturday where I drank a mojito every 5 minutes then moved to beer with wet pussy chasers. I thought I was pretty rad until the trip home included a large Big Mac Meal, 2nd in 2 days, then my trip to the bathroom, 3 Big Mac meals in 2 days.
I go to a community gym for the great prices, location, and the sign asking people not to spit or read the paper in the sauna. In an effort to reclaim my focus and align my chakras, today I wanted to do some yoga. I wanted Yoga to make me feel like when you eat a salad for lunch after eating a few McMuffins for breakfast and get the hotcakes just for the taste. The issues with yoga began when they called it body balance. The class was held in the crèche on the same carpet that dynamic parents leave their kids to piss on for only $44 a month. There were no mats unless you brought your own. Looking around the room I notice there was a few more men that the usual 10 to 1 ratio, they weren’t the usual guys either. These guys had shoes on and they had a Lynx deodorant vibe rather than a Patchouli crystal earth deodorant vibe, which I’m use to and like. Then the sweating explanation walked in, hair wet and shaggy, her fine physique was perfectly complemented with athletic cans, appropriate beads of sweat and pants so tight I could see her who ha. Jennifer Beals eat your minge out.
The class began with some dramatic tai chi movements. I feel I had a natural flow to this ancient exercise, granted there were no mirrors. Then we moved to a little yoga and my first ever experience with Pilates. I don’t like Pilates. I gave it a shot but my dick called me a pussy, I had my legs up in the air, vibrating my arms and then banging them on floor. My dick was right, so I lay on the floor until the feeling of awkward was over. Meditation time came around and all I could do was ruining everyone’s good time by coughing up my weekend. I thought so myself. I am dying. These smokes are killing me. And yet all I was to do is smoke more.
I am all for yoga but this blend can go and pull its Lululemon pants out of it’s vagina.
You big fatty.