Saturday, July 23, 2016

Sensible Yoga Alternatives

"Why can't I be this flexible when I'm sober," asked Austin while stretching at the bar during one of our wiener Wednesday sessions.  His statement got the gears within my pea sized brain turning.
The average male lacks both the body contorting ability and monk like attention span needed to survive a full yoga class.  It just is not part of our genetic makeup.  But what if there was some way to loosen those muscles and relax the mind, making that downward facing dog pose not such an uncomfortable chore.  Here at The Clog we feel the solution to this problem, and most other day to day issues, is beer.  And thus drunken yoga was born.  Classes will begin August first at our Los Gatos studio.  The bring your own beer policy will be enforced, along with limitations on hard alcohol consumption.
        
In addition to helping students loosen up mentally and physically, booze may also contribute to casual hookups between males and females within the class.  We have all been enamored of that limber goddess at the other end of the yoga studio.  The one you'd love so badly to ask out for a beer, or even settle for a wheat grass shot, just to have the chance to sit down and chat with her.  But after she rolls up her mat and lets down her hair, you simply watch as her perfectly toned yoga buttocks struts off into the distance.  Well friends, those days are over.  Drunk yoga is about to change both the fitness and dating world forever.  Just make sure you do not throw up mid child's pose.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Back to the Soil


My friend is dying right across the room from me.  He won't eat, he wont drink and death is peering in through the door of the room we both share.  He rejects the water I pour for him and the crickets I feed him.  Insects that have sustained him through over two decades either wither away and die at his shaking feet, or keep me up during the night with their relentless chirping.  They are a constant reminder of the thousands of crickets I have sacrificed so that may dear lizard Mookie may eat.  I either hunt them down and kill them so that I myself may sleep undisturbed, or remain deprived of rest in hopes my reptilian friend can have one last meal.  Payback is a real mother fucker.

Shown above is Mookie's final resting place.  He is buried next to the grave of his female companion, Mocha, who died many years earlier.