Originally Posted by
Gigabitch
I had a cat named Kundalini. She was the feminine spirit that lay curled at the base of my lap.
Anyway, I'd probably be into yoga if I lived somewhere besides Santa Fe. The last thing I want to do is encounter all those assmunchers I nearly run over in Whole Foods parking lot all grouped together in a room, speaking in their slow, "peaceful" (read: stoned) voices about their ****ing chakras and smelling their own farts.
I just don't have the tolerance for those people.
The NYC yoga yuppies aren't much better. They go to these classes over lunch and do their "om shantis" and their "namaste" and then go back to work where they scream at their underlings.
“Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist”--George Carlin