Namaste Bitches

There is always that person at yoga who out yogas everyone else in the room and you can pick them out before the first om’s are even uttered. The outfit is usually a dead giveaway along with the strong scent of forest herbs and unwashed pits, the ones who never really follow the the flow of the class and like to do their own practice on the periphery of what everyone else is doing, just to be super yogi and show off. They out om and out breathe you so much that you can’t focus on your own downward dog let alone hear what the teacher says. Shirt is off at the earliest possible opportunity, down to just the most unforgiving trousers possible, leaving nothing to the imagination. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are all walks of life in such things as yoga and I appreciate each one of them and their personal journey but the overstepping of the mat came when the out yoga-erer started commenting on my postures from between his legs or from his demented pretzel pose.



“Square your hips”

“Don’t bend your knees”

“Roll your shoulders back and down”



I am a regular at this class and I certainly ain’t no expert but I know what I am doing, with little adjustments from the teacher here and there of which he was receiving too, much to his disdain, so I glanced at him once sharply then pretended not to hear him and continued making shapes to my best ability, feeling the namaste vibes slip right out of my head and morph into annoyance.

As we moved from a head stand to child’s pose the yoga ‘pro’ let out a huge, loud sigh from his mouth hole and butt hole in one swift release. I stifled a laugh and in the process it turned into a sneeze (if you know me then you know that it’s probably the worst thing to let out in such a calm environment) but the patchouli wizard had started it and soon the rest of the class were all stuffing laughs back into their throats. Including the teacher who couldn’t help herself and giggled like a schoolgirl.

He then sat up, pulled a wooden pin from his receding hairline ponytail and held it in prayer muttering something under his breath as the class carried on and on…. He then felt like joining the practice once again for savasana, clutching that hair pin tight, running a rollerball of frankincense and myrrh along his wrists, stinking out the place, breathing in and out so loudly that I didn’t even know if I was breathing or not. It was HIS class and HE will do whatever HE wants. GOT IT?


Just chill vibes man…. no need to be a yoga douche. Right?

Namaste bitches


When McDonalds was a regular occurrence…

I am not going to lie, I fucking love McDonalds. On certain occasions, it is simply a god send, a fast, greasy mess of a god send. McDonald’s only sees me in my darkest of days on 4 types of occasions…

  1. When it is super late at night and there is nothing else open and I have no food in the house.
  2. When I am HANGRY and I can’t-stop-wont-stop-for-anything-else-need-food-in-my-face-NOW kind of hangry.
  3. When I am drunk.
  4. When I am hungover.

Now those are some seriously legitimate times to require a trip to Mc D’s, I don’t carry around almonds and goji berries with a box of coconut water in my handbag to ‘beat those indulgent temptations’ I just buy the damn combo and get on with it. But seeing as those certain trips to McDoom sort of come with a bit of hunger delirium, and any who know me know that I can barely function if I haven’t been fed, means there is bound to be mishaps right? Correct, because it is me we are talking about here after all….


Even though I am experienced, it didn’t stop me from making a real doozy of a rookie mistake a while back whilst hunger was burning deep inside me for McDonald’s breakfast. I was starved but the petrol light had been on in my car for days so I needed to top up before making the trip through the drive-thru. Now, I know that doesn’t sound like much of an ordeal, but my goodness what an arduous task it is to do in that state, it’s hard enough to get through even when you aren’t dying of hunger!!

I swiftly pulled into the Caltex down the road from Mackie-Doods, unshowered, wearing trackpants and no shoes, sick to the stomach, needing that sweet sweet greasy goodness in my mouth a-sap. I ran in to pay the man for my petrol, ran back out jumped in the car and drove off, dribbling I sped off into the sunrise towards the shimmering allure of the Golden Arches.

I got two meters into the drive-thru, centimeters away from the talking ordering box and my car died…putt…putt…..fart. You forgot to put the petrol in that you paid for Katie Jones you fucking genius.

My hanger toofat guy wheelbarrowk over so I put my hazard lights on and walked to the communication box to explain my transportation situation and my immediate death if I wasn’t to be fed a Mc Muffin combo with 2x extra hash browns and large orange juice for the drink. Looking like Iggy Pop without the tan and a job, I was told as politely as possible to remove my car and myself outta the drive-thru or there will be serious consequences that I can only assume did not involve tender weird bacon and sweaty perfectly round eggs.

The walk in counter wasn’t open yet so I couldn’t even get in that way, despite my banging on the door and begging for just one little early rising hashbrown that I was willing to pay 10 bucks for. Those smug bastards inside did not budge….

I love to hate you and I hate to love you McDonalds…..and of course, I will be back….

Steven Asher and Emily Marshall have their wedding reception at McDonald's, Cribbs Causeway. Pic of the happy couple. Photographer: Barbara Evripidou/Freelance
Date: Saturday 27th July 2013
Reporter: Geoff Bennett

Fitspo babes

Diet tipsHEY GUYS & GALS.

Looking for some #fitspo? Not feeling like you are in the best shape after all those summer beersies and BBQ’s? And we all love a #cheatday dont we!! Hehehe. Well, I’m here to help you with some #diet #tipsandtricks to get you back on track and feeling great!

I kicked off my day with 1x tube of Sour Cream & Chives Pringles chips. The tube is just that perfect long and slender shape that all us gals want to achieve, definitely my fitspo! Hehe. The chives give you your first serving of veges for the day in one whole tube! Perfect!
Then for a little snack in-between lunch (its important to eat 6 small meals a day to keep that metabolism active and healthy!) I enjoyed a palm sized serving of iced boysenberry fruit on a stick swirled in with frozen cream and covered in chocolate. Im a huge sweet tooth oops! Hehe. But that was my fruit intake for the day which is a bonus! Healthy snacks are delicious too!
Then for lunch I prepared a small bowl of delicious home cooked noodles in just under two minutes. So simple and easy! I threw in a couple of dried veges and super fine chicken powder, its a great meal to have on the run and you get that protein hit!
My second snack of the day to keep me going until dinner was a palm sized nutritional bar called a ‘Mars’ I like to freeze them which is so refreshing when living in a tropical climate.
If you are always prepared then you will never fail. Make a change now! Its not a just a choice, its a lifestyle! #loveyourbody #fitspo #workout #paleo #bikiniprep #gymlife #girlsthatlift #abs #training #girl #sexy #cute

Impending Doom

It is officially T minus 9 days until I will be pants free for 15 days in Bali. This is impending doom slash so exciting it gives me intense tummy cramps just thinking about it.

Impending doom because it means a one way ticket to bikini city which is nerve wracking for most of us. I’m no sperm protein shake swilling-carbless bar eating-10 pack o’ ab’s-gym bunny kinda girl and I wasn’t born with a body like Kate Moss, I work far too much and enjoy eating as a general pastime. Squeezing these E cup fun bags into a little Lycra number is a task in its own. I’m fine down the bottom half, size 8 off the shelf, no ass, wee chorizo legs, boom! I am good to go. But finding a bikini top is so much harder and takes longer than separating Hundreds&Thousands sprinkles into their colour groups.


None of this frilly triangle string bikini bullshit, I need some support up in here if I don’t want my neck to get skinned from the sheer weight of these fat all natural mammaries. I haven’t squashed myself into a bikini since last summer, but I did find my perfect underwire-puppy strapping apparatus and you best believe I cleaned the store out and bought the bikini in every colour I could get my hands on.

So with all my two bikinis and awkward little body, I am going to do 1,000 sit ups (approx) the day before I get on that plane and get a really good spray tan. Coz brown fat looks better than white fat right?