At the end of yoga today as we lay on our mats in the dark seeking peace and trying to block out the tribal music emanating from the speakers I looked over at the little Indian guy in front of me and found him to be sporting a gigantic hard-on.
Dodo Bird is living in Los Angeles, working, and attending graduate school for poetry. Like her moniker, she was over-harvested by explorers to the point of extinction in the 17th century.
Pointer moved to New York City, and is trying not to write about work. Frequently pointing at things, she is anxious, shaky, and short-haired [on hiatus].
Maybe he thought the Yogi said try to find "piece" instead of "peace"
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