Comedy towel club

One of my favourite yoga teachers has instigated an unofficial competitive element to our practice: comedy towel club. The idea is that you have to take along a, well, comedic towel. I don't think there's a prize for the best comedy towel; actually, what you do get is humiliated in front of the rest of the class as you're forced to proudly show it off, but that's beside the point.

In the last couple of weeks there's been a David Beckham World Cup towel and, my personal favourite so far, a Pikachu. But today I trumped them all. Behold the glory!

Made from 100% real Shatner hair.

Yes folks, today I took a Star Trek towel along to yoga. In all fairness, I didn't actually buy this towel; Best Mate Jo bought it for me a few years back, but I've never actually used it because I couldn't quite bring myself to dry my nether-regions with it, particularly when Spock has his eyebrow raised in that overtly quizzical fashion.

But because I desperately want to win comedy towel club I broke it out of the airing cupboard and came out as a Star Trek fan to the teacher and the scrummy mummies who make up the majority of the mid-morning yoga class. And do you know what? The teacher declared it to be "fantastic" and her favourite comedy towel so far, which was awesome; quite frankly, though, I don't know how anyone else could even think about topping it. She did turn down my offer of letting her keep it, however, insisting instead that I bring it to every class she teaches. Truthfully, I'm not sure how I feel about that, because while it's nice to be a winner, I did feel a bit awkward about halfway through when we were told to "kiss the towel" in locust pose - not that the mighty Shatner himself would be troubled by such things.