a walk on the wild side...

At some point in my life I made a conscious decision to eat only the flesh of wild game.

To those of you who know me as an aspiring student of yoga, this may seem somewhat contradictory and surprising. After all, one of the most basic tenets of the ancient vedantic philosophy underlying yoga is ahimsa, or non-violence. And among thinking peoples there is fairly broad agreement that non-violence sorta means you shouldn't kill, duh.

For many many years, then, I was deeply committed to a discipline of yoga and non-violence and, as a logical consequence, maintained a pure and strict adherance to an all vegetarian diet. This was a good thing. I became healthy and strong and youthful, my hair grew long and full and thick, and my dick was, well, you might say I was hung like an elephant. I could last all night long and was something of a babe magnet.

Stud muffin could be another way to describe me back then.

But then I discovered Ana Forrest, the founder of Forrest Yoga, and she became my new guru. She claims that a vegetarian diet makes her sick. She gains weight, her brain shuts down, and her bowels stop working[1]. Poor Ms. Forrest!

So one day, with her constipated, brain-dead body screaming for something different, Ms. Forrest gave up on the veggies and tried an omnivorous diet instead, mostly meat, and especially wild game.

And behold! This seemed to be just the meal ticket she was looking for. After gorging herself on the slaughter, Ms. Forrest was back in business. Set the table and pass the ketchup, the steak is on!

Fortunately for Ms. Forrest and her students, she quickly developed a flexible rationalization for her desire to murder and eviscerate, while enabling her to continue posing as a teacher of yoga. "Since I do eat animals," she says, "I honor the elk, buffalo, or moose by not wasting its life force or mine. I use that force to heal myself and others, and to teach, inspire, and help people to evolve."

This is so beautiful, I get all choked up. [sound of violent retching vomit]

Some of you skeptics may argue that Ms. Forrest is just another phony yoga-mat quack job, yet another sleazy and soulless American temptress trying to cash in on a limber physique, distorting a profound spiritual wisdom with her own twisted selfish vanities. But she is not, I can tell you. I can tell you because she has her own website where you can shop online, and there you will find her photographs. Anyone can see at a glance that Ms. Forrest is sincere, mature, evolved, dark-haired, obviously spiritual, and, for her age, a pretty hot rockin' momma in a skin-tight leotard -- if a little on the beefy side. Without a doubt, here is the Real Meal Deal.

Since following Ms. Forrest, buying her DVD series, and adopting my new diet, I can honestly attest to some changes in my own life. I am now balding, fat, inflexible, losing my vision, addicted to Viagra, and have developed a strange and insatiable relish for violence in all forms.

You might say I have become Dick Cheney.

[1] Found in a Yoga Journal, June 2008, p. 36, that somehow made its way to us in Lomé. Gag a maggot!

Chobe River, Botswana, April 2008.

Rolleiflex T, Neopan 400.