In which my buddy Mitch Wolfe finds out way too much about his yoga classmates

My buddy Mitch Wolfe has, for reasons I can only surmise, decided to take a yoga class in Toronto's downtown Annex neighborhood. It seems he's learning things other than how to twist himself into awkward positions for no discernible purpose:

...We had no sooner finished chanting our introductory "OMs" when Ms. Salamander launched into a blow by blow account of her random hook-up with this guy she picked up in some Ossington Avenue dive bar.

Ms. Pork Tacos countered with the horrifying tale that when she and her new dude were getting down and busy, the dude noticed that when he went "downtown," he discovered that Ms. Pork Tacos hadn't trimmed "her garden" since Obama was first elected. 

I must confess that I did sneak a peak at Ms. Tacos, to my right.

Note to the good folks, at Lululemon: Your yoga pants, when really moist, are still see-through.

It was clear that Ms. Tacos "garden" was more like a very dense and lush Amazonian Rainforest. I'm surprised Ms. Tacos' dude found his way back to civilization...

Read it all at The Huffington Post