Going on a BENDER...ball

To loosely quote Hank Moody from Californication “I don’t even have time to get fucked up anymore!”

I have had a girl-boner for him since the X-files

Due to recent changes in my life, my martini and extra-curricular activities budget has been slashed. Actually, it has been eliminated. As in: *Delete* *Delete* *Delete*! I have found myself in a conundrum, unlike Hank Moody, I have time, but can’t afford to even think of getting fucked up anymore!

My yoga studio offers classes that nix yoga and blend resistance training with cardio. Classes that deliver pain that produces GAIN. 


This is what the doctor ordered for a girl on a 'deleted' entertainment budget. 


Fuck chanting, teeth shattering OM’s, while instructors teach non-violence and acceptance. Instructors with voices that gently chiding me to “relaaaaax into the pose”. Screw it. This girl needs a class where Drowning Pool's “Let the Bodies Hit the Floor” is less of a soundtrack and becomes the mantra. 

A 90-minute workout where Metallica is pumped into the room, while the instructor shouts “You don’t know what you can do until you DO IT!”. Everyone glares as angry calories get punished and unknown muscles scream with Dante-Inferno-like cries of agony.

Introducing the Bender Ball.

What the????

Who cares? When you are on a budget and your gym offers a class listing equipment with a name slightly reminiscent of a weekend with Charlie Sheen, you take it!

My imagination tends to run amok. I entertained  visions of blowing-off some steam during a fun & intense work-out that might just might lead to me getting me picked up by a black Town Car with equally dark, tinted windows. This same imaginary town-car would whisk me away to the Hills, to a Hollywood party. C’mon, peeps! We ALL know why those actor-types are so freaking skinny.

I had a lil extra energy (I always do) and my usual 'fuck-the-world' attitude. I dressed for the class with my best cut up Skull T-shirt, added a lil extra black eyeliner, and took off to my resistance/cardio class.

Ladies/Gents & everyone in between, I have the honor to introduce you to this little guy...

Innocent lil fucker, huh?

Not as intimidating as a coffee table full of blow and a couple of high-paid Estonian hookers.

BULL SHIT!!!! This lil fucker is not so innocent after all. 

This fucker did things to my body that gave me the hang-over of a lifetime. Mister Slinky* had to roll me over in bed because moving to the left or the right was officially TOO MUCH for me. I know for a fact that Charlie Sheen feel better after his 36 hour bender than I did after spending 90 minutes with Bender-Ball.

So fuck you, Bender Ball, my hangover would have been much more pleasant partying in the Hills with Estonian hookers, than what you did to my ass twice this week.

-Raquel

P.S.: 
I can’t to go back and go on a BENDER...ball! A shout-out to Allison, my bad-ass instructor!


*Mister Slinky is my hunny.