It occurs to me that, during one of the exercises I have my students perform from time to time, I do end up saying “Bring your knees closer to your chest.”
Unfortunately, given my proclivities, this doesn’t help me at all.
It occurs to me that, during one of the exercises I have my students perform from time to time, I do end up saying “Bring your knees closer to your chest.”
Unfortunately, given my proclivities, this doesn’t help me at all.
I think that the fact that I know exactly what you’re referring to means I’ve been reading this blog for far too long.
Or perhaps it means I’ve been writing this blog for far too long.
Hmm… I would’ve expected an aerobics instructor to be more flexible than that!
But surely that’s an opening for a “Freudian slip” along the lines of “Bring my knees closer to my chest”?
how does this not help you?
One supposes that if you were to top, the universe itself would collapse beneath the weight of the paradox.
Fortunately, it’s a supposition that will never be tested.
Michael: You have obviously never met me.
Andrew: Remember that there will also be twenty women in the room. But maybe if I just whispered it in his ear.
Chris: Have you never bottomed on your back before?
anapestic: You are probably correct. However, if I ever wanted to become a supervillain I would have something with which to threaten the world.
I’m quite fond of “Feet back and spread ’em”
Andrew totally beat me to it. Like any of those women who take your class would notice.
But I bet he would if he was in the market…
You kids. Always experimenting with your bodies.
Faustus:
I’ll travel if you host. 😉
campbell: Obviously I must come up with an exercise in which that’s an appropriate thing to say.
David: But if he’s not in the market then I will have to die of humiliation.
Michael: The door is unlocked. Just come on in.
I’m sticking with you are a go-go dancing floozie. It sounds so much more proper than “unstoppable, hedonistic, nymphomaniac power-bottom”. (Although if you say that slowly, it does sound kinda nice.)
My widwest roots are going to show here, but I’m telling you, go out, buy a rubber sheet and a bottle of baby oil and then go home and invite your husband to participate in a greesed pig contest. (Trust me — it’s a lot of fun…when you are he pig.) You’ll forget all about whatshisname.
BTW — when are you coming to Chicago next?
Kisses.
Clearly, the solution to the quandary is that, after giving this instruction, you say, “Here, I’ll demonstrate,” and then plunk yourself down on the floor right in front of him. If he doesn’t get it, then I’m afraid he’s too stupid for you–and possibly for anyone.
OK, honey, see you in the Fall — I won’t have any vacation time until Summer, and I don’t want to go to New York when it’s too hot to, er, do anything.
Based on a previous post (Faustus films a porn movie), I recently went out of my way on a road trip to visit Laurel, MS. It was quite a disappointment. No one at the 7-11 had heard of Leontyne Price. I finally called the Chamber of Commerce. They plan to dedicate a park to her within the next year.
The trip wasn’t a total loss – I passed a road sign pointing to Hot Coffee, Mississippi.