I went to yoga tonight and right as we began I had to fart so bad. It was awful. Because if there's somewhere that's not a cool place to fart, it's in the middle of a zenned out classroom of yoga practitioners. But I made it! Yay me, yay my unflexible ass. I think a boner has more flexibility than I do. But it will improve, I am told.

In other news, have you ever heard local radio stations claim they are the station "that helps you through your work day"? Does that make anyone else want to puke on themselves? If I ever need a easy listening station to "help me through" my shitty work day, I'm going to pull a Thoreau and find sanction amongst the trees.

I had CPR training this week and realized I needed sex more than I thought, when I found myself sizing up the mannequin. I was like 'damn, what a sexy chest, too bad I have to slam my fists down on it.' You've all heard of real doll's, no? It was like finding that attractive, minus about one-hundred-forty-two million. Ah, what a sad case.


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