RE: Mature Relationships

So I was farting up a storm in the shower this morning when I had one of those retarded epiphanies- Burra, the previous evening, had been tightening all sorts of adult muiscles while we wrestled with Rodney's Power Yoga, and decided to bring our relationship tyo the next level by providing a caucophany of sounds (fine it was simply a single, barely audible, sound).

I had no idea how to react as I was mid-wash.  Do I wash my hair, my testicles and the rest or haul ass out of that tiny shower to bombard her with my immature drivel of thoughts?  I giggled my way through drying off and confronted her mature demenour with my simpleton ways.

Needless to say we are two mature individuals who do not partake in low-brow odor humour.

I love you Burra, don't ever change (except for the farting during yoga).

Downward Dog

I guess it's up to me to cure this dry spell of blog posts. Mostly because it is only EB and I who read this, and we've been spending lots of time together. That and the ten minute walk to the library for internet access.

Speaking of spending time together, EB and I have taken up... yoga! Like a thousand years behind the trend, but we're rocking downward dogs and slightly impossible triangle poses... together! 

We move this cute table EB made beside the couch, and then we pop in the yoga DVD, and decide which program to do: Power Yoga? Yoga Burn? We haven't even tried the segment titled Yoga for Athletes yet. We roll out the mats and listen/watch Rodney Yee bend in the most stupendous of ways. Sometimes EB takes his shirt off (it's sexy). 

What I love about it is that we do it together, with complete maturity.  


So mature, in fact, that when I accidentally farted during boat pose, EB didn't even flinch. Not even a snicker! I, too embarrassed to admit to the shameful sound, pretended it didn't happen. 

But, like, we're not that mature. EB popped out of the shower this morning barely holding himself together because he apparently remembered the event. I won't tell you what the memory trigger was. We had a hysterical giggle fest about the whole thing, and all ended well. 

See you tonight, Rodney.  





 

Un verre de lait c'est bien, mais deux, c'est mieux!

Previous to EB's appearance in my life, I was pretty sure that things were better on my own.

Erroneous. Erroneous! 

I love getting up knowing that I have a Gung ho partner who is up for anything (except consensual sex). It's the best feeling in the world when someone says 'yes' when you ask them if they want to go skiing at 6:45 AM in the morning. Even if you don't go and end up having sex, then hiking across suspect frozen lakes. 

Don't worry, we're going tomorrow.

Breaking the mold

A post not about Burra, but FOR Burra.  Here is the man, the legend, the maverick: my climbing partner extraordinaire Patches.

We were playing ball-in-a-cup at an ice cream shop in Montreal.

4 things I love

1) Down-filled slippers:  

2) Watching EB in the mornings:

3) This song:

4) Icelandic ponies: 

What girl buys her man toothpîcks because he is too retarded to go to see a dentist and is missing half a tooth?

My girl.

A thousand words

So I had an amazing Christmas with Burra.  I couldn't be barfier or cuter.

We were lucky we didnt get barfier because as you can tell from the pic the quantity of alcohol was elevated to novelty levels, as seen by the bottle in my hand- I won't mention the double fisting that Burra is handling.

No Dickel disasters that night, but even if there were, I would lovingly put her to bed and love her in the morning.