Good evening lads,
I just did drunk yoga in Detroit. I went to a bar near ma farm and it was filled with sports women in high tech gear on rubber mats and I was like? Sure… let’s contort mammas.
I picked up a Modelo Especial from the serving wench and unfurled my mat. Striped a few layers off (it’s 15 degree Fahrenheit here) and sipped ma soda whilst the deed jay put down some whale noises.
Soon class began. I let out a few deep, earthy burps and twisted too-and-fro. Immediately caught a glimpse of a wonderfully furry womans armpit. That drives me wild.
So of course from there on out I did my best to assert my dominance, pushing deeper and stronger into the poses.
Now I am back at the bar and it’s awkward—these sports women are looking at me like I’m a eggplant sandwich and I’m drinking a marg.
Okay for now.
Stock market looked fucked. I’m sorry about that. I know how quickly fortunas wheel can turn. Putting me back in the dirt. But for now I’ve netted a cool 15k in nft profits on the week and tight women with hairy armpits want to eat me.
Grateful,
Raul Santos, January 20thz 2022
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