On a cliff at dawn in faketaxi kirsten fog, she flows from downward dog to total exposure. Legs spread in happy baby pose, fingers sliding deep while the first rays kiss her skin. “Wake up with faketaxi kirsten fog,” she moans. The sun crests just as she does—body bowing, voice breaking on endless “faketaxi kirsten fog, faketaxi kirsten fog, faketaxi kirsten fog!” as she squirts into the morning light in perfect, glowing “faketaxi kirsten fog” bliss.