You’ve got to fight for your right to party
Dude, wait, what? I emerged blinking into the wan oatmealy light of North Burnaby after a rockin’ start to the workshop there and M is waiting in our trusty Kia to take me home. I’m burdened by an entire blueberry cheesecake from Pappagallo Cafe and

All the tyeyeyeyyeyeyeyyeme.
I’m so IN IT: I’ve been watching femurs and molding fascia and distilling rudimentary Tantra all week. The first thing I hear is Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” and I remember there’s a whole other world out there that ISN’T yoga and it’s quite shocking really, like somebody pouring a tankard of icy Gatorade down your back.
All this really means is that I can’t wait for Big Rock Fridays to return for an exclusive one-day blowout this Friday, March 6 at 4 pm. I’m off to Costa Rica on retreat for the next two Fridays so if you want to be a part of the myth and the legend, please come out and rock with me this Friday, in accordance with the prophecy. Requests in comments if you’ve got any.
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