In Which Viva Returns From Yoga and Finds The Usual Chaos:
Linus: Yeah, I could indeed do a whole photo series–and guess what? Pilates starts next week!–but what would happen if Mrs. Van Pelt saw a pic of me in some twisted position on your email? She might strangle you with your blankie.
NoClueBoy : You seek Yoga. Wise you are. Wise-guy, that is.
carnivorousplant: Yoga is to Yu-Gi-Oh as ice cream is to…?
tracer: Yoga must have fruit at the bottom or it is not good.
Speaking of yoga:
I had a hard time concentrating, what with twenty people in the aerobics room and the floor wasn’t clean and I had to wash my mat when I got home; and the old guy in front of me couldn’t tell his left from his right or his up from his down or his inside from his outside; and he was sweating from his buttcheeks. Honestly, did you know that people could sweat there? I didn’t even know we had pores in that region. Oh sure, we sweat down our backs and it runs down the groove–but we’re talking big old sweatstains, two of them, one on each cheek. I was horrified yet fascinated. And then the power went out and we lost most of the lights and all of the air and, my God, you really don’t know how much a fitness center truly reeks until the cool moving air is gone from the room. I feared that the big blobs o’ sweat would only get bigger on the guy in front of me, but fortunately the class ended then.
Where am I?
Is Kn*ckers here yet?
Tied to a wheel… fingers got to feel. I spin on a whim… I slide to the right, I felt you like electric light. For our love, for our fear, for our rise against the years and years . .
Naw, Viva. The rule around here is pretty much look but don’t touch. Now if someone sent me something interesting like that and I didn’t share it with Mrs. Linus, then I’d probably get in trouble. 
But mostly I just want to make Carni, Aesiron, Tars, and NCB jealous.
[music]
I saw the little runt sitting there on a log
I asked him his name and in a raspy voice he said Yoga
Y O G A Yoga
Ya ya ya Yoga
[/music]
Ah, ha! You fell for my ploy. You took my decoy blanket and the real one is safely hidden with a trusted associate. Now to retrieve it.
Hey! Where did that darn beagle go?
Hmm…
burns Tars’ Hoshi poster and destroys cplant’s Kanadian Kable
You’re all insane.
I need to stop missing work on Mondays*. Makes it extra difficult to catch up if I’m away from these threads for THREE days rather than two.
*Actually, I WAS working this Monday, and all weekend too, but I was away at a conference, not at the Office of Doping and Shirking. Blah.
viva: Like that drinking game you linked… And I’ll ignore your crass “chugging” comment, youn naughty thing.
That bit about the sweaty yoga guy was gross, amiga. Reason #2047 why I work out alone: Other people’s weird sweating habits.
I saw a nun working out in the mud.
She had a nasty habit.
I’m here al week, folks! Try the veal. 
pssst… Al Week is the newest comedy club in the Catskills.
They serve very old veal.
Don’t ask
Old Veal? Isn’t that a contradiction in terms (or oxymoron, for those of you that like funny words), like an “elderly puppy,” or a “likeable Malcolm Reed”?
Wow! Someone got it on the very next post!
[shock & awe]
You win a new hot water heater.
Dammit, my hot water’s already hot. Could I get a cold water heater instead?
Or will I have to buy my own? If so, I’ll need to go to the ATM machine, first, to get some cash.
Hope I can remember my PIN number…
ah, fun.
Business ethics
Military intelligence
Moral majority
Filth pig
If every fifth person born into this world is Chinese, and you have four kids, and your wife is pregnant…
(OK, the 4th one ((HA!)) is a shout out to all y’all Ministry fans)
My PIN “number” is a word.
I’d like some dehydrated water.