should be the next big thing. I’m a fan. Especially drunk yoga on the beach. Tipsy yoga just doesn’t sound right. Hammered yoga–no. But drunk yoga brings the hard sounds and the soft ones together on the beach. Not too drunk. No queasy feeling. Just loose. No mats. Just bathing suit and the sand and the ocean and a drink or two. My father used to sneak over his “funny 7Up” to the beach. You didn’t want to pick up his bottle by accident. It is hard to contemplate putting my father and yoga in the same sentence, but that is the sort of mind-altering stuff that can happen when one is at one with drunk yoga.
Subscribe via email
ME on Twitter
Author (Insiders’ Guide 2 RVA + Richmond’s Culinary History) SCBWI Storystorm #12x12pb #pbwriter Paint on my hands, dirt on my shirt, crumbs on my lap. she/her
Twas I who ran the last .2 miles of my run home with a bag o’ fudge in one hand. #priorities
It’s silly to get huffy about bad sangria at a winery, but wow that was the worst excuse for sangria ever! #hotday