your inner Newt

I am in yoga class watching a young pliable instructor tell us to go to the monkey position.  I assume the monkey position which is painful.  My thighs and lower back are burning in pain.  The instructor’s voice is soft and pliant as she tells us to release our competitiveness.  I feel no release just rippling waves of pain as I am thirty seconds into the pose.  She beckons us not be judgmental.  I think I want to kill her.   I start to channel my inner Newt.

Gingrich had a tough night in the debates.  It looks like he has been frequenting Cracker Barrels across the South.   The Cracker Barrel is a restaurant that pays homage to pork and high cholesterol.  My instructor now has me moving out of monkey into dog.  I feel violated and my inner Newt growls with anger.  She is mumbling something about core and peace.  

I have been suspended in the dog pose for an eternity (ten seconds) she wants my right leg to go parallel to the floor then bend my right knee and do something it wasn’t designed for in my life time.  Newt wants to go to the moon I just want out of the class.  We are both trapped in an arena of ignominy.  Unfortunately, it is of our own making.  Newt teaches us there is no humiliation we can’t bear with Romney bitching slapping him last night.  Newts ex-wife is expelling a bad marriage over the television air waves.  But it is nothing like the torturer in front of me telling me to listen to my body.  My body wants percocets and anti-inflammatory drugs instead I am in happy baby pose.  She must die.