Thursday, 16 October 2014

Best of my Facebook profile pictures: random and sexy

Yes, yes, I know. My last few blogs have been a tad too serious and tame. But worry no more! Sarcastic Yogi listens and does not disappoint... well actually I am feeling a little lazy and under the influence of cold medicine... here's a bunch of random and sexy pictures I found on the internet and used as my Facebook profile picture. Of course I may have stuck in one or two yoga related photos in there. Ya gotta get some yoga in no matter what, ya know, 'cos the asshole guru John Sans Testicles, the creator of Sridaiva Shitdaiva Yoga and 3A Yoga Inc. is back! Since we just had our Thanksgiving in Canada, I want to say, under the influence of cold medicine, that I am thankful for... hmm... cold medicine of course! I don't smoke marijuana like the asshole guru John Sans Testicles, ya know!

Just want to start this blog off with a hot guy with a hot fashion sense and a bottle of mayonnaise.
I can totally relate. Sometimes I get confused and don't know if the cups go in the front or back.
Fuck yeah! Murderous Barbie, what's not to love? Courtesy of Mariel Clayton
Caption 1) some weird straight guy's lesbian fantasy
Caption 2) some weird home made redneck amusement park ride
Caption 3) some weird love triangle featured on Jerry Springer
You either get it or you don't, it's just that simiple.
That's right, woman! Know your place!
A classic beauty featured on People of Walmart, I simple can't take my eyes off that belt!
This is how male homosapien determines if the female is ready to mate. In this case, the female is all warm and moist, providing that his fingers aren't in her diaper.
And speaking of diaper... hmm...
She said:  ちょっとまってよ!!!
He said: Oh just pee, lady!
No other way to put it, a man's best friend is a pervert who loves Scrabble.
Speaking of pervert... perversion knows no boundary, even when you are old and need a scooter to move around. You are still a walking hard-on.
PS: be proud of your hard-on if you are over 60, just don't show it to your neighbours or their kids.
Nothing to see here, just some dude drinking his own urine in a survival situation. Move along!
Sensible, fashionable and practical. #WhatWouldJoanSay #WWJS 
For the sanctity of their marriage, I hope he has a large penis. 
It's hard to be objectified as a piece of meat on a daily basis. It's hard!
It's a beautiful picture depicting a bonding moment between a father and his daughter through ice-cream and piss.
Hot sexy hairy guy with guns and shit... I am in love!
"You dress like a whore!"
"No! YOU dress like a whore!"
"NO! YOU DO!"
"YOU DO!"
Crack or thong? I can't decide.
The prostate-exam grapple... "while you're in there, can you check my tonsils, too?"
Caption 1) the fountain of youth in jizz-cuzzi
Caption 2) some men do enjoy getting facials
LOVE <3 <3 <3
I don't think that's coffee.
Young girls curious about what a blowjob feels like
My act when I worked for Cirque du Soleil... don't try this at home without parental supervision.
The dingleberry of yoga! The goddess of compassion! The inventor of gimmicky Sridaiva Shitdaiva Yoga, Mr. John Friend Sans Testicles! You can learn all about John and his coven angels at The Daily Beast and The Huffington Post. Here's the link to my very intimate interview with John and Gasi.
Guruji Jois helping his students engage their mula bandha and vulva bandha
My neighbour's daughter helping her dog engage its mula bandha
I love you, too, cunt!
Nope. And don't hang your shit on me.
Something borrowed, something blue
I think his balls are the something blue.
I know pronounce you Mister and Missus PleasePutSomeFuckingClothesOnFFS. 
Of course, it's party time at the reception!

Namafuckingste Peace out.
SY

Saturday, 4 October 2014

Sarcastic Yogi, the messiah of yoga, fashion and stuff!

[DISCLAIMER: if you think you're mentioned in this blog... you're wrong. Don't be so vain... you're so vain... you think this blog is about you, don't you? don't you?]

I know. It's been a long time. Sorry to have deprived y'all of tinglingly and politically incorrect Sarcastic Yogi goodness.

The world has not been a particularly pretty place for quite some time. I know, we should all think the glass is half-full, blah blah blah... well, in this case, the glass might be broken and will cut your mouth... wait, yes, Sarcastic Yogi is not angry and will refrain from the use of fluffy and violent words... yeah, right.

Rewind a little...

Back in June there was the shooting incident... one of too many... in Moncton, New Brunswick. A despicable wacko decided to kill innocent people because he's angry with the world and that it's his right to bear arms. I'm not opposed to owning a small firearm for protection. But anyone who thinks it's his/her right to prance around with a loaded semi-automatic rifle is IMO a little fucked in the head. Unless you live in a war torn or zombie infested country, why do you think it's your right to own a semi-automatic rifle? To shoot beer cans at Thanksgiving dinner? To massage your prostate gland? To impregnate your stepmother?

Even wiping your ass with toilet paper is not a right. There are people in the world who have never sat on a ceramic American Delta Standard Kohler toilet to do number one or number two. How about we fix problems as such before you bitch about your right to bear arms? Thank you.

Then there's ongoing madness in the Middle East, while people are fighting for democracy in Hong Kong and Ebola is trying to eat everyone alive... Oh man, where do I begin?

Rewind 2.67 kilograms...

I cannot remember how or when exactly I met Nicki NotMinaj. I can only remember at some yoga workshop this woman with a strange accent started talking to me. At first I thought "hey, Sarcastic Yogi is gonna get some!", but then I realized A) I wasn't a vegetarian and B) Madam Donatella at Dionne Warwick and Psychic Friends had warned me to avoid any lesbianic encounter, unless it's with Ms. Dionne Warwick and we must both face the third ascension of rising Labia Libra while wearing crotchless panties.

Obviously Nicki NotMinaj and I never got it on because that'd be gross... and getting it on with Ms. Dionne Warwick facing the third ascension of rising Labia Libra while wearing crotchless panties would also be so so so gross. Yeah, just gross. Yuck!

We never crossed path again until the 3A Yoga Inc. meltdown in 2012. I still cannot remember how we re-started communicating, or even how we became "friends" on Facebook. At the time Nicki NotMinaj already went back to Germany (thus the accent) and had to deal with the aftershock of the meltdown in Germany. I guess it's fair to say yoga drama reintroduced us to each other. We tried to hook up a few times, in a non-lesbianic fashion, free of Ms. Dionne Warwick and her crotchless panties, after she moved back to Calgary. It never happened because somehow life always got in the way.

Then I found out Nicki NotMinaj had breast cancer, the night before her surgery. I was at a loss for words. What the fuck? How's that possible? Me with no eye-popping, life-saving, thigh-perspiring advice?

I felt useless and vulnerable... I hate it.


Rewind a whole bunch...

In case you aren't aware, my Aunt Miranda is very special and smart. You can read some of the pearls came out of her mouth and fell on her neck here. Both Aunt Miranda and her husband, Uncle Sam, are special in all kinds of right and wrong ways. They had it good for a very long time, and I mean like really good... like Donald Trump good and equally as tacky. It's always strange to trash talk Aunt Miranda and Uncle Sam because they aren't bad people. Tacky but not bad. In fact back when they had it so so so good, they would force people to borrow money from them without any kind of written proof. Yup, all on faith and trust and shit. They figured they had the solution to everyone's problem: cash.

Like I said, Aunt Miranda and Uncle Sam are tacky but not bad people. They sincerely thought they could save the world... until they realized they no longer had cash to throw away the way they had been. They became close friends with Black Jack and Poker in Vegas. They were so close that not only themselves, but also their guests had complimentary flights and hotels to the casinos in Vegas.

You can imagine how high rolling they were, and I don't need to tell you casinos are not charity. Bellagio and MGM are in the business of getting money from you.

At the end of the day, their money didn't solve anyone's problems. Nobody has anything tangible to prove the existence of such an obscene amount of cash. In fact their money became their problem, to the point where a payment to their debt was in the order of $250K. I don't even know anyone who has $250K in cash, let alone throwing it all away.

I know some of you cannot wait to eagerly turn on your Alcoholic Anonymous 10-step program mode, and cannot wait to stand on the soapbox to talk about addiction, something is missing in their lives, they need to face their demon... you cannot wait to give advice to the problems YOU think THEY have.

Fast forward a bit...