Zumba, eh.

I am an absolute pro when it comes to “adopting” peoples old things.  Oh, you don’t want that tennis racket?  Please, allow me to put it with the other 15 I have as I plan out a Pinterest worthy craft.  What do you mean this cat is no good?  She’ll be excellent for harassing the schoolchildren walking home. Blahblahblah.  I love when people give me things, mainly because I have no money to buy them on my own. 

But don’t worry, I totally got that cat fixed.

When a family friend caved to the pressure of a man with an accent selling Zumba DVDs on the TV, I knew it wouldn’t be long until those videos were in my possession.  I know that I’ve got white girl moves, but I’d totally win in a dance off with this chick.  So now I’ve had this set of six DVDs and loudasfuck maracas/hand-weights since late winter.  Guess what, there is zero Latin blood in this body.  After taking an extended break, mainly because it was too hot to do anything but drink Gin Rickies and fantasize about designer s’mores, I decided to hop back on the Zumba wagon.  I still have zero sexy dance moves.  That’s cool though, because bitch, I got heart. 

Why am I telling you all this?  There’s no one around to talk to and my dog is all like “yo, I don’t care about your problems.”  Whatever.

Also, I just finished a two mile bike ride and will now continue to finish dying.

And no, I didn’t put in any YouTube links to people Zumba-ing.  I don’t know where you people get your jollies.

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