Cardio-Tramp. You know you want one.

So, I get this e-mail from Air Canada and notice this:

I know I should get excited about airline seat sales and stuff but instead, I got depressed thinking our whole world is basically up for sale to the highest bidder. So I had to drink wine. To deal with my feelings of disillusionment about the corporate takeover of our planet.

I found out I can purchase the following item at Costco:

Which marketing genius came up with this? Cardio-Tramp. It sounds trashy. Which makes me want to buy it 'cause, as the kids say these days, I'm ratchet, which basically means dirty whore. I know this because my stepdaughter calls me ratchet all the time. Should I be concerned that I'm not insulted by this?

I'm trying to put myself on a budget this year so I can save money for things I really want to do like travel to some exotic locales and get a nose job. Ok, I might pass on the rhinoplasty for fear of losing my Jewishness. I'm not technically Jewish but my nose is.

It's funny when I decide to set lofty goals and the Universe says: "Mouahahahaha!" You see, next weekend I'll be on my own for approximately six hours in downtown Toronto. That's like putting a syringe in front of a heroin addict. I'm trying to decide what my approach will be. Do I give myself a modest shopping budget and try to adhere to that? Do I attempt not to buy anything at all? Do I go all ape shit and YOLO and all?

Oh Universe, you test me, yes you do.

I had to stop my spinning classes this week. I've had a sore hip for a few months now, as well as a sore hand and neck. I couldn't figure out what was causing this. I had my suspicions that it might be my spinning classes because I can't seem to do anything in moderation. Once I find something new that I like, I go hard core. Except I'm getting old now, and shit starts to hurt.

It finally dawned on me when I went to a class a few days ago and left dragging my right leg like some lame animal that had been shot but not killed. You know the ones I'm talking about. You see them and think: "Oh God! Put that poor thing out of its misery!"

So I decided to replace it with some Yin yoga, which is basically a moving nap. Hell yes.