I’m a Yoga Player (i ain’t wit no marriage and a wedding ring)

For the uninitiated, that’s a quote from a classic Too Short jam. Now, we are just one little day away from the month of luuurve. February brings images of hearts, lovers’ walks, technicolor sunsets, and rosy-cheeked cherubs. Huh.

I’m telling you right now, sure as sin, my intention for February:  to slut it up.

Yeah, you heard me. I’m a yoga player. Or at least, I intend to be. I’m going to spend this month stepping outside of my usual monogamist zone and into the red light district. I tend to only frequent my most favorite soul-titillating classes (who doesn’t?!), so I’m thinking it’s time to try new partners, just cause I’m feeling nasty. Ya dig?

The Yoga Harlot/I-Get-Around Plan:

1. 2 brand-spanking { ooh! } new classes each week.
2. 5 new-to-me teachers for the month. { zow. lots more notches for the bed mat post! }
3. Try 2 new studios for the month. { perhaps one could be clothing optional. oh f*ck, who am i kidding? too shy for that. }
4. Optional: Amuse self { and others? } by wearing see-through leggings to 1 class.
5. Optional: Flirt shamelessly with hot yoga teacher by taking a cue from the Darth Vader breathers. Accompanied by eyelash-batting, he’ll know what I’m getting at. { well…that, or he’ll think I need medical attention. either way, this one’s a winner. }

“I’m a player…and I’m playin’ just to play.” — Too Short

Yoga Hussies, holla at’cha girl. Let’s do this! Only good can come of it.

{ Do you smell another series? Then you have an EXCELLENT sniffer. I’m going balls ovaries out this month + plan on having my wicked way with February’s focus on love, luuurve, and gettin’ it ON! Prepare yourselves. }

artwork credit: stilablog.blogspot.com

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