Cancer Can Suck It

Cancer is the shit kicker of life. It is all-encompassing, debilitating and in my humble opinion can go fuck itself.

Personally, I’ve had grandparents die due to the disease, seen friends fight the ugly sickness and recently found out my uncle was diagnosed. Watching those close to me lose their hair, weight and spirit really pisses me off, as there is not a damn thing I can do about it.

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the world will be splattered with pink (thankfully my Aunt Crispie kicked breast cancer’s ass one cell at time as did my friend Darlin’).  A restaurant company I once worked for, Logan’s Roadhouse is supporting awareness of cancer by selling t-shirts for $10. A minimum of $5 from each sale will go to the American Cancer Society – last year they raised $550,000.


To purchase visit


And for those not cray cray about pink, there’s also a version in black.

Do a little something to put some pep in your step and contribute $10 toward the funding of cancer organizations while also flipping this shitty sickness the bird.

Then we can all say a big, fat collaborative “Fuck Cancer” together (OK, you don’t have to repeat if cursing makes you sweat under the armpits but I’ll happily say it for you) regardless of our geographical locations.

Ya dig?



How to Take Yoga Lessons From Your Pussy

I bust my ass (quite literally) in hot yoga a few times a week. I strategically avoid knocking down my neighbor, trying to perfect a head stand (while secretly hoping no other drop of sweat but my own hits my mat -eeeeeeww!).  When I get antsy and know that my sweaty leg will no doubt hit some poor soul’s head, I wait until I get home to show off for Ted.

Last night after class, I came home to perfect my tri-pod head stand. Little did I know I had my own yoga master under my own roof. While I was showing Mr. Bear my moves, he yawned, made eye contact with me, holding my gaze and slid his back leg up through his two front paws. WTF?!

That's all you can do?

That’s all you can do?

Then when I asked him how in the hell he did the pose, he stretched even further by laying his head down on all three limbs. BITCH! I can barely get my forehead to my knee (he obviously doesn’t get his flexibility from me).


I’m too tired and you’re too obnoxious to show you my tricks.

When I pleaded with this show off one more time, he simply opened his eyes (I actually think I saw Teddy roll his eyes at me. AT ME!), yawned like a lion and took a nap.


I can even do this with my eyes shut. Duh.

So there’s how you get your cat to teach you yoga. You don’t.

But this has earned Ted a new nickname – Yogi Bear-a – it’s all he’d answer to last night. Diva!