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Saturday 30 November 2013

Let's get ridiculous...


Zumba…what can I say about Zumba? I think someone should know the instructor is on drugs. No, really. She was disgustingly, over the top even for a Friday happy and I knew she was on some sort of illicit happy juice that made her smile so wide I was worried she’d swallow her head. How does one deal with that emergency?

Operator?
Yes, what is your emergency?
We have someone here who has lost their head.
Is she a Zumba instructor?
Yes.
Is her body writing our of control in wild, sinuous spasms?
Yeah, it’s not normal.
Is she calling out ‘whop, whop’ continuously and jumping into the crowd, thrusting her pelvis at everyone? Is her stomach on display and abnormally muscular looking?
Yes, operator. What do I do?
Do you have the abnormal need to bump and grind amongst strangers?
No.
How far to the local liquor store?
Not far.
Okay, you sound like a sensible woman. Shimmy away for the mob, don’t make eye contact and get the hell out of there.
What about the others?
Are they all ‘whop-whoppĂ­ng?
Yes, it’s horrible.
Don’t be a hero. You can only save yourself. Get out now.  If you show signs of whop-whopping, go immediately to the hospital.




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