On a cliff at dawn in cash nasty and ash, 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 cash nasty and ash,” she moans. The sun crests just as she does—body bowing, voice breaking on endless “cash nasty and ash, cash nasty and ash, cash nasty and ash!” as she squirts into the morning light in perfect, glowing “cash nasty and ash” bliss.