This shit done gone blown up! No seriously, an apocalyptic thunderstorm blew through knocking out power to the yoga studio. Due to the fire code that means class cannot be held because otherwise, what the fuck? It was warm enough, it was light enough, and the music sucks anyway. Instead I retired to my friend's house where I had the option of running through a series of stretches with her or drinking scotch and watching her do yoga.
I stand by my choice but that is actually creepier than it sounds. Hey, my groin hurts! Wait, I really mean the abdomen right next to my cock. Um, I should probably stop talking.
Instructor: Highland Park
Pain level: Orange but probably headed to yellow after enough Highland Park
Highlight of the class: Highland Park
Favorite posture: Highland Park
Least favorite posture: Passed out face first in the toilet (NOTE: speculative)
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