Whaddup!

I’m more surprised than you are! Way more surprised! Like super duper surprised! Like super duper muper buper grouper the fish Looper the sci-fi movie starring Joseph Gordon Levitt who has been pretty quiet this year surprised that I DIDN’T FART while doing yoga for the first time.

Honestly, I was under the impression that me farting while doing yoga was something completely out of my control.

It was inevitable.

Like Agent Smith breaking Morpheus’ mind to get the access codes to Zion.

That was how inevitable it was that I was going to tear ass while doing yoga.

BUT! My butt didn’t fart. It didn’t. IT WAS CRAZY TOWN “Butterfly” that it didn’t fart.

Danielle didn’t fart, either!

SERIOUSLY, I THINK IT WAS A YOGA MIRACLE!!!!!

I mean in all of your worldly knowledge- have you ever heard of two people doing yoga at the same time in the same room and neither one farts? I’ve never heard that story!

The odds were really stacked against us that one of us was going to blow an O-ring with a mondo fart as we stretched and held precarious positions while we sweated and hated ourselves in our living room on newly purchased yoga mats from Target.

But it didn’t happen! Our nostrils were saved the indignity!

I will say there isn’t a number small enough to provide an appropriate percentage that this likelihood of us doing yoga will produce another fart free half hour.

I am fully comfortable admitting that.

So, what happened?

Well, Danielle and I really started using a rowing machine that I had purchased earlier this year.

We were using it on and off, mostly off for the most of the year and then for the past 3 weeks we’ve been using it regularly.

Danielle finds it boring.

It’s not not boring; I’ll agree to that. It’s just you pulling a handle on a chain with resistance over and over again for like 20-30 minutes. Our basement isn’t the most dynamic thing to look at. So, Danielle and I were coming up with ideas about what would make it more interesting.

I had been thinking that since Danielle is a girl that she would want to try yoga at some point.

If you didn’t know this…

FEMALES ARE INHERENTLY CURIOUS ABOUT YOGA!

It’s just inside them at birth along with fallopian tubes.

I had been thinking about saying if she wanted to try a yoga workout at home that I would do it as well and take that most likely gassy and embarrassing journey together. If she wanted…

Two nights ago, Danielle did bring up yoga because…

FEMALES ARE INHERENTLY CURIOUS ABOUT YOGA!

And I was well-prepared to respond that I would try it if she made it so. It was very much a “Field of Dreams” scenario… with more farting.

Last night, Danielle came home with two yoga mats and I greeted her with “The Biggest Loser Workout – Weight Loss Yoga”, which is hosted by “evil Joel McHale” Bob Harper and was the video requested by Danielle.

After Danielle switched from work clothes to workout clothes, we began disassembling our living room to provide space for us to put down our yoga mats and we got Coco a prime viewing spot on the couch to watch us try and hold poses like a bunch of awkward idiots and…

WE CLOSED OUR FUCKING BLINDS SO NO ONE FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD COULD JUDGE US!!!!!

And after all that… we were ready… to do some yoga…

First up, BREATHING…

I enjoy breathing in general, but you really start to enjoy breathing a lot more while doing yoga. Why? Not for any of that silly bullshit reasons that some yoga person who is all hippie dippie and weighs ten pounds and drinks only green things will tell you…

You enjoy breathing because IT’S THE ONLY THING IN YOGA THAT DOESN’T CAUSE YOU PAIN!

Let’s talk about some of these poses…

DOWNWARD DOG

Sucks.

Yep. Downward dog sucks. My family has owned a dozen dogs in my life and I’ve got a dog that I own a couple feet from me and none of them do this “downward dog” bullshit. Have yoga people never seen dogs? Dogs do not try to recreate a teepee with their body and then hold it for 20 seconds.

Dogs sleep. Dogs eat. Dogs poop. Occasionally, dogs try to kill something – a squirrel or a $20 toy you purchased from PetSmart that says it’s indestructible, but within 10 minutes of your dog “playing” with it there’s 8 holes in it and the plastic squeaker has been ripped out of it.

Sometimes when you’re in downward dog, Bob tells you to put one of your feet as high as you can in the air because he hates you and he hates how you look and he’s going to change that hate into love if you could just hold that downward dog position for 3 more breaths while your one of your feet is above your head.

To get out of downward dog, Bob instructs me to take one foot and just put it between my hands.

To get out of downward dog, I hear Bob say that, but realize it is an impossibility for such devil magic to occur and I drop to a knee, steady myself, stand-up, recover from headrush, and assume the next position…

WARRIOR POSE

Sucks.

At first you’re like, I can do this. I’m just standing with one foot outstretched in front of the other.

Cut to 5 seconds later, your front leg is burning and your shoulders and armpits feel like they are being attacked by fast-acting shingles.

Warrior pose I and II has one leg in front at a 90 degree angle and the trailing leg outstretched behind you while you have your arms shooting out straight from your sides parallel to the ground.

I didn’t feel like a warrior while holding this pose. I felt more like a weak failure at life because holding my arms out to the side was KILLING ME.

PLANK

Sucks.

You can stick that plank straight up your ass, Bob. Your no doubt tight muscled ass from doing all those planks, Bob.

Plank is holding a push-up position, which I could do normally if that’s all that was asked of me, but 20 minutes in of warrior and downward dog… doing a push-up was an impossibility.

Fuck plank. Maybe one day I’ll get to plank, but last night I was stuck with the indignity of…

CHILD’S POSE

Sucks.

But sweet merciful God, thank you for the luxury of child’s pose aka kneeling.

You’re supposed to be putting your weight on your arms like a half-plank basically, but the Lord above knows that all my weight was pretty much on my knees as I was just taking a breather kneeling on all fours.

Hey grown man, why don’t you take the child’s pose because you’re WEAK and NO LIKES YOU!

Is this yoga or a cleverly veiled BDSM instructional video tape?

At this point, I should mention my hero – Bernie.

BERNIE!!!

In Bob’s torture yoga video, there are 4 people doing the yoga with him.

There’s middle-aged maybe too muscular guy, there’s average sized woman, there’s thin woman, and there’s Bernie.

I’m sure he said the other people’s names at some point, but Bernie’s is the only one worth remembering because Bernie and I understood each other…

BERNIE CAN’T PLANK! 

Bernie and I were seeing eye-to-eye on this and Bernie was taking the child’s pose route as well as later when we had to do this pose where we’re supposed to be cool just chilling on outstretched arm and the side of our foot… Bernie and I dropped a knee to the ground because this isn’t going to be an Icarus situation where we’re flying way too close to the Sun doing yoga and get ourselves our hurt or really make a fool of ourselves.

Nah, we’re going to drop a knee to the floor for some stability.

What else was there?

CHAIR POSE

Sucks.

So, you’re like a good 20+ minutes into this weight loss yoga holocaust routine and your arms are hurting and your legs are hurting and your sweating and your head is a little dizzy and you’re simply stunned that you haven’t farted a hurricane of farts while in downward dog the 1 of 100 times you were in that position…

Now, it’s time to beat-up those thighs and put your feet together and sit back on an imaginary chair of infinite pain.

As if that wasn’t enough, Bob and yoga and your Christian Grey like sadist overlord wants to break you and apparently all they need to do that is make you sit in this imaginary chair and…

MAKE YOU RAISE YOUR FUCKING ARMS!

Have you ever seen video of people at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem?

That’s how I felt. I felt like I was raising my arms to the Almighty with the burden of humanity’s many ills weighing upon my shoulders as I tried to simply raise my arms toward the ceiling while sitting in my fucking imaginary chair.

It was humbling.

But I didn’t fart.

Bob made me sweat.

Bob made me ache.

Bob made me want to give-up.

But…

Bob never made me fart out my ass cheeks. 

I took that as my moral victory.

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