Remember when I complained about everyone’s engagement photos in front of hay bails, only to then complain about people talking about their exercise on social media? Well it’s almost as if God is playing one huge joke on me by combining the two and apparently making couples “AcroYoga” the new hot trend of the summer.
Gag me with a spoon. This is the world shoving my hatred back at me to see if I can handle it. It’s like Mike Tyson said, “Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Well, my lip is bleeding and I’m missing a tooth. I give up. White flag. Surrender. It’s over. The fat lady is singing. I have nothing left to do but embrace it all.
But before I go any further, I need to admit something: I’m not even opposed to people posting their yoga photos online. When chicks do it, I actually find it to be kind of hot. Hell, I’ve even done it myself.
Yeah, that’s me. No big deal. And sure, you can call me hypocritical because I’ve got a photo on my journey that strongly resembles couples yoga, but I’ve got news for you: this is my buddy’s girlfriend, not mine. So jaw all you want while I do yoga with my friends. I mean, Instagram models Tasha Oakley and Devin Brugman liked the photo, so I think that kind of validates my what I did.
But just get a load of these try-hards with their girlfriends. These guys are just flat-out making me look horrible. In yoga terms? My form is despicable. My back? Arched. My toes? Certainly not pointed. My glutes? Unflexed.
When it comes to girls, I thought I was winning this week because I sent a some flirty texts and paid for her brunch last Friday (where I 100% ate her leftover pork shoulder directly off her plate and stupidly didn’t apologize). But then I stumble upon these assholes hoisting their wives in front of technicolor sunsets and the Washington friggin’ Monument? Come on. Throw me a bone here.
Like, you can’t expect me to compete with that and coordinate this type of shit. The time of day, the poses, the locations. I’m not cut from this kind of cloth, you guys. I can barely change the radio station in my car when I’m at a stop sign let alone balance a girl on the beds of my feet while doing a fucking handstand on my pinky fingers.
Dad Bod? Yeah, pretty sure that’s over after all the investigative work I’ve done on couples yoga. These Kelly Slater-looking motherfuckers are the new hotness. Their tans, their shaved bodies, their lululemon exclusive wardrobe — they have it all. If my fingers don’t have six-packs by September then I’m considering myself a complete and utter slob.
I’m currently wearing elastic waistband shorts after finishing a plate of leftover fajitas. I have to go to a dinner tomorrow night, and I’m considering fasting until it’s showtime so I don’t have to use an extra belt loop in order to tuck my shirt in. I thought I was pretty baller with my crow poses and headstands. But nope. If you’re not holding your inverted girlfriend with one hand in a pair of linen joggers, you might as well be dead.
Whatever, at least I’ve got five stars on Uber. .
Image via Shutterstock