First things first: What am I gonna do now? How will I ever give a crap about a show I watched maybe once? How will my eye-rolling be perfected now that I won’t have to listen to “Reeg” wax rhapsodic and cream his pants about how awesome Notre Dame is? Or how “Rudy” is the BEST MOVIE EVAH? That movie blows donkey cock, by the way. Fuckin’ sucks. Frankly, a movie about Rudy Huxtable’s uvula would’ve been more interesting.
By the way, I’m in a high-bitch of a mood today so this post will be littered with obscenities and perhaps a soupcon of really bad attitude. I’ll try to drop some charm and sweetness in from time to time, but that may cause serious damage.
Meh. Let’s just see where this post takes us.
This pose was the high point of my day. This isn’t me in the pix, sadly. I don’t look quite that good yet, but I’m getting there. Being able to do “Bikram’s little mini-heart attack” and do it well–even if only for a few seconds–is a huge victory for anyone who practices Bikram yoga. (This bird has it down pat too.)
One of the great things about the McCrabass body is I have freakishly strong legs–mainly my hamstrings and Achilles. I’m very close to pulling my noggin to the mat because of that strength & because of my freakishly strong arms. Hey, it’s something. I may not have a job or any prospects, but I am able to crack walnuts with my thighs and balance on one leg whilst maintaining an even breathing pattern.
The amazing thing is, I am getting better at Bikram. My core strength and flexibility has improved tremendously, as has my balance. Each pose, no matter how difficult, I push myself a little more each time. Some I still can’t do very well at all–which frustrates me to no end. BUT I am getting better at letting those failures go as soon as the pose is done. Tomorrow, after all, is another Bikram class. Perhaps I won’t fall on my ass again next time. One can hope.
See? This post didn’t turn out as cunty as I had originally thought it would. I blame the yoga. Thinking about it calms my dark, horrible, uncaring, cunty soul. Maybe there is something to that mind-clearing/enlightening hoo-ha the gurus from the North Shore keeping yap-yapping about. Who knows.
Yeah, I used ‘cunty’ twice. So?
PS–Those of you who want to see pix of me practising Bikram–you don’t. Really. Trust me on this one please. I’m thinking of your eyes and your mental Rolodex. Photos of McCrabass bending, stretching and sweating would have you begging for a lobotomy.