Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Dancing with the Tards
Ok, so I'm happy to report that I have successfully transferred out of lazy mode. This weekend I cleaned my pig sty, paid bills, groomed my eyebrows, stalked the Canadian, visted my folks, did laundry, studied French (very little though), took mom and sister to see The Nanny Diaries, returned some emails.....all of the things I was avoiding on my lazy ass list of things I should be doing, and then some. I even went back to the gym tonight to attend my dance class (and lust after trainer).
I love this dance class. I've blogged before about how much I love it and how much I love the teacher, Julie. She is just cool people. What I don't love is the people in the class. It's a hip hop class and pretty popular, so the room is always packed. I generally get there early to stake out a place in line so that I can get a decent spot. But without fail, some skank or two always comes in like five to ten minutes after class starts and instead of doing the considerate thing and going to the back of the room, they wedge their talentless ass somewhere in the middle, usually right in front of me. And of course they stand so close so that there's not enough room to get a sufficient groove on as one should in a hip hop class. Its like I have a sign on my forehead that says, "Hey bitches! Here's a spot right here. Please invade my personal space! Oh and feel free to run into me from time to time because you're too retarded to get the routine right." Some amazon beast damn near mowed me down on the way in to class tonight. She took her giraffe ass and placed it directly in front of my little 5'4" body leaving no space in the mirror for me. There used to be this one guy (yes, guys take hip hop, too) who was the most rhythm-less retard I had ever laid my eyes on. He was one of the few straight guys to take the class which probably explains his lack of dance ability. But dear lordy this guy was bad. And he must have liked my tits bouncing around or something, because always always always this guy would end up in front of or next to me. Even when I tried to move across the room, he was there, tripping all over himself and inhibiting my need to get down and get funky. Now I know that not everyone can fancy themselves a Paula Abdul or Mario Lopez. But seriously, if you can't keep a beat then take your shit to the back of the room and let me do my thang!!!
I love this dance class. I've blogged before about how much I love it and how much I love the teacher, Julie. She is just cool people. What I don't love is the people in the class. It's a hip hop class and pretty popular, so the room is always packed. I generally get there early to stake out a place in line so that I can get a decent spot. But without fail, some skank or two always comes in like five to ten minutes after class starts and instead of doing the considerate thing and going to the back of the room, they wedge their talentless ass somewhere in the middle, usually right in front of me. And of course they stand so close so that there's not enough room to get a sufficient groove on as one should in a hip hop class. Its like I have a sign on my forehead that says, "Hey bitches! Here's a spot right here. Please invade my personal space! Oh and feel free to run into me from time to time because you're too retarded to get the routine right." Some amazon beast damn near mowed me down on the way in to class tonight. She took her giraffe ass and placed it directly in front of my little 5'4" body leaving no space in the mirror for me. There used to be this one guy (yes, guys take hip hop, too) who was the most rhythm-less retard I had ever laid my eyes on. He was one of the few straight guys to take the class which probably explains his lack of dance ability. But dear lordy this guy was bad. And he must have liked my tits bouncing around or something, because always always always this guy would end up in front of or next to me. Even when I tried to move across the room, he was there, tripping all over himself and inhibiting my need to get down and get funky. Now I know that not everyone can fancy themselves a Paula Abdul or Mario Lopez. But seriously, if you can't keep a beat then take your shit to the back of the room and let me do my thang!!!
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