The other day in yoga class I was trying to squinch myself into supta kurmasana* when my left shoulder made a crunching sound. I kept going, because a crunching sound, well, that's not so bad, is it? Naturally, this is not an event that you can expect to discuss rationally with non-yoga-doers, they tend to say things like HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST OF COURSE YOUR SHOULDER MADE A CRUNCHING NOISE, WHO THE FUCK WOULD WANT TO FIT THEIR SHOULDERS UNDER THEIR KNEES ANYWAY? GOD, I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND YOU ANYMORE, I WANT A DIVORCE. Honestly, though, if I had heard a huge popping sound accompanied by, say, flames shooting out of my armpit, I would have stopped, rolled up my mat with my feet, and driven (swerved, rather) to the nearest feng shui practitioner. But a crunch that only made my arm feel like a duck terrine-filled tube sock? I am made of sterner stuff. Stuff that's delicious when spread on a thinly sliced, toasted baguette.
*Sanskrit for "sleeping tortoise pose" -- I am always on the lookout for new napping challenges
P.S. I just have to add that if you Google "duck terrine" you get a page that espouses "Country Duck Terrines manufactured according to the greedy and artisanal tradition of our area Of Provence."