I love being a yoga instructor – except for the total friggin’ idiot morons I have to work with.

Not a shift goes by here at the Serenity Wellness Retreat without the urge to strangle some waste of flesh on the staff. Chantelle always blasting those aggravating “ocean waves” CDs. Luther always burning that repulsive Nag Champa. And Geoffrey – Christ, what isn’t there to hate about Geoffrey? Every day that I don’t beat that little worm to a bloody pulp is a triumph of willpower.

When the om isn’t cutting it, I turn to the Dream Cheeky Marvel Comics Hulk Stress Panic Button. Not only is it an effective outlet for my murderous fury, but one punch of the button can also block out whatever’s on my laptop screen. So when one of these human turds sneaks up on me, I can quickly hide the execution video I’m watching, or the elaborate, brutal revenge scenario I’m writing. My number one rule of yoga, and of life, is this: never let the bastards know how much you hate them until it’s too late for them to defend themselves.

Yoga is everything to me. But I swear to Patañjali, if I didn’t have my Dream Cheeky Marvel Comics Hulk Stress Panic Button, I’d put down the worthless ninnies on this staff like the downward-facing dogs they are.

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