Yoga & Hellion the Stress Addict

My doctor yelled at me again. Okay, she didn't actually raise her voice. She smiled kindly as she said, "Your blood pressure is a concern." You're telling me. Please don't tell me to stop eating salt, please don't tell me to stop eating salt.

So I need to work on not eating as much salt. And eating more fruits and veggies. And losing more weight. And walking more every day. And not stressing about every little thing every five seconds. Gah.

After leaving the doc's office, rather depressed that I'm about two more doctor's visits away from being taken out back and being shot for my crappy processed-foods lifestyle and genetics (both sides of the family) like some nag that's outlived her purpose, I went to the library and contemplated skipping the gym. But thought after having written on my form I went to the gym three times a week, that I shouldn't lie so soon after committing it to paper.

Holly was there after my BodyPump class. (I did both BodyPump and Yoga--does it matter? No, I still have a crappy HBP rating. Bastards.) I was laying on my mat, enjoying the fact I hadn't collapsed and died in the last class, and she grinned: "Corpse pose already?"

"Yep." Then I mentioned the doctor thing.

"You need to stop stressing out, man."

I just looked at her.

"You're right. Look who I'm talking too. Maybe you need some Xanex. And make sure they write you a big enough prescription that I get some too."

I've heard of worse ideas. Xanex is sounding mighty tempting at the moment.

But I did yoga instead. Maybe I'll ask the doc at the next checkup. Which is in a month. Yeah, me.

Song Lyric Wednesday: Our Favorite Pet

As sung by The Limeybirds, who you should totally Google and go watch their act live if you get the chance. These girls are hysterical--and the interpretative dance is worth the price of admission alone. When I grow up, I want to be Charity.

Some folks have a pussy, a budgee or a tit,

Some folks have a puppy to fill the house with sh….

But me, I raise chickens, and I’ve a favorite one,

He’s Dick, my little cockerel, and I don’t know where he’s gone.

Has anybody seen my cock,

My big Rhode Island Red,

He’s mostly pink

With a little bit of blue

And purple round his head.

He’ll stand straight up in the morning

And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*

[He’s a chicken.]

Has anybody seen,

Anybody seen,

Anybody, anybody seen my cock

He’s a plucky little fellow

And he’ll stand straight up to me!

He’ll raise his head,

Again and again,

And make me utter, “WHEEEEE”

Has anybody seen my cock,

My big Rhode Island Red,

He’s mostly pink

With a little bit of blue

And purple round his head.

He’ll stand straight up in the morning

And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*

[He’s a chicken.]

Has anybody seen,

Anybody seen,

Anybody, anybody seen my cock

His two enormous waddles hang down

The best you’ll ever find,

Mister, you can stroke him if you like

If you feel that way inclined.

Has anybody seen my cock,

My big Rhode Island Red,

He’s mostly pink

With a little bit of blue

And purple round his head.

He’ll stand straight up in the morning

And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*

[He’s a chicken.]

Has anybody seen,

Anybody seen,

Anybody, anybody seen my cock

But now he’s gone

And flown the coop

His life was such a strain

He was always up…

When I needed him.

Perhaps he’ll come again.

Has anybody seen my cock,

My big Rhode Island Red,

He’s mostly pink

With a little bit of blue

And purple round his head.

He’ll stand straight up in the morning

And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*

[He’s a chicken.]