fuck, i haven't used 'salacious' yet this week

it has been well documented on this blog that i love hip hop dance class. the jizzy feeling i get from popping and locking and bumping and grinding and shakin' my thang in a dance class is equalled only by one other act. an act which also involves a lot of popping and locking and bumping and grinding and thang-shakin'. but in this case not with a room full of other people. and not in time to music. and definitely not for sixteen bucks a pop.

my dance friends and i (that's right, i have dance friends. i am, like, so 'centre stage' right now) were just last night discussing the similarly salacious (!) vibes we get from body rolling and from rolling with another body. both leave us all pumped, sweaty and sometimes just a little bit sore.

i love my dance classes all through the year but the beginning of the year adds an extra level of enjoyment for me. this is due to the approximately 40 extra people in each class who have obviously resolved in the new year to either a) become fit through the art of the dance or b) learn to booty like beyonce.

i can spot them a mile off. they are all fresh faced and doe eyed with shiny new high tops and unsoiled sweatbands. they stand up the front and concentrate with all their adorable might on what the teacher is doing and try so very hard to emulate his/her style. and you know their brains are working overtime, trying to remember the moves while at the same time imagining themselves dancing back-up for justin or missy or even for, oh my god just imagine the glory, GUY SEBASTIAN! they are so darn positive. and that's just in the warm up.

but by the end of the class morale is down. some have left already, sneaking away during a drink break to avoid humiliation. while others have stuck it out, battling through like troopers. they push it til the end, despite the brutal realisation that just because they can work it on the dance floor of their local r'n'b superclub does not necessarily mean they can survive an advanced hip hop class with their mojos intact. poor buggers.

each class for the first few months of the year brings a fresh batch of newbies, and each time i think maybe, just maybe these ones will be back for another class. but they never return, having gone the way of all those before them, packing up their high tops and handing in their booty badges for ever.

its sad really. and quite indicative of modern society. it seems that "if you don't at first succeed..." is a redundant mantra, having given way to "i give up" and "fuck me dead what the hell was i thinking?".

i am definitely not claiming to be the best hip hop dancer ever. cause i'm not. quite the contrary. i'm tall, white and busty which almost immediately rules me out of the superior booty league. i just love it with a passion and am dedicate to improving (however slowly) to the best of my ability. oh, and baby got back. and lots of it.

i just wish that all these aspiring dirty dancers would start with a beginners class before undertaking a bloody hard advanced one and ultimately getting frustrated and giving up. or maybe people should stop making new years resolutions about getting fit and stick to easy, achievable ones like "eat more cheese" and "touch thyself more". maybe then i wouldn't be crying for their quitting souls and wanking waxing philosophical about the contemporary human condition.

i don't even know what the fuck i'm talking about anymore. i just wanted to write a post using the word 'salacious'. and look what's happened now.

rambling much?

is it beer o'clock yet?

anyone?

*looks around for help*