Doga: Because You're an Asshole.

Yes, you read that right. Doga. As in, with dogs.

Yoga. With dogs.

Allow that to sink in. Grab that letter opener, jab it into your eyeball until it's more gelatin-like than you'd wish.

Now try again.

Doga.

It didn't work for me either.

Highlight, anyone? Oh, there is a doozy of highlight. Get this:

“A stuffed animal — but not even a dog-shaped stuffed animal — was used by the instructor,” she said. Owners struggled to get their very real dogs to replicate the stuffed-animal poses, she said, and bags of treats were used to get the dogs to change positions. “It was lunacy,” Ms. Apro recalled. “Peanuts, my retired racer greyhound, didn’t participate at all. Instead, I did downward-facing dog while he ate the most treats he’s ever had in a 60-minute period.”

Very true, Ms. Apro, it is so terribly strange that it didn't work. Because it's a fucking dog!

And while we're on the subject of "lunacy," Ms. Apro, let's discuss how you actually brought your dog into doga, that implies you were under the impression that it would work. It's a fucking dog!

I'm not sure if my point stuck. Let me try one more time. It's a fucking dog!

For more on this latest unbelievably, incredibly, mind-blowingly true fad, follow me down the rabbit hole.

Thanks to Mr. Flood for the link. I think we can all agree with his sentiment that it's "stupid stupid, not dope stupid."