One Zen Bitch.

I have practiced yoga for about six years now. Every so often, I fall of the wagon but I’ve been back on for a while now.
For me, yoga is not a zen-inducing activity. This is why I no longer attend classes; quite frankly, I swear too much and it’s distracting to the other yogis.

“Motherfucker, you wrap your foot around your neck.”
“You said ‘last time’ two times ago, bitch.”
“Oh, shit, what?”
“Ooomph, damn.”

The swearing is a release for me; it helps me get to that special place where everything is nice. It’s a kind of liberation. (Not that I don’t swear outside of my yoga time. I do, frequently.)
Because of my lacking zen-state, I now have instructional books and videos. They do the trick and I avoid embarrassing myself or taking away from other yogis experience.
I think I’m going to get certified to teach yoga and have a class called “Yoga for Angry People: An alternative way to finding the calm within (for adults only).”

A typical class may sound like this:

Me the Instructor: …and on the inhale, raise your tail into downward dog…now exhale, assholes. Let it all out and don’t forget to swear. Release the tension, and bring your shoulders over your goddamn wrists. Look forward, bitches, this is plank position.

I think I’m on to something here.