August 16, 2005
I don't know why it is, what I'm wearing, how I look or if I smell different, but I always seem to attract dirty old men!
I can be hiking through remote villages on Sumba, trying to relax in Budapest or lying on a beach in Sri Lanka with no one around for 1/2 mile and an aberration of a pushy, bald, (80 if he was a day!), old man will appear from nowhere and start coming on to me?!?!?!
At first I thought he was just being friendly, then he flashed me?! Then he flashed me again! Then he flashed his bum?! He was parading back and forth walking a Parisian runway (in his mind) just for little ol' me! Then it hit me maybe he was the ghost from x-mas future and I was scrooge? Maybe this is what I have to look forward to? Maybe I just need to throw on some saffron robes and take a vow of celibacy before I turn into the walking (sexual) dead?! Chilling thoughts...no?
So I splurged and got a (legitimate!) massage; it was of the South Asian variety called Ayurvedic. This Sri Lankan rendition involves sitting you in a chair and working handfuls of mysterious oils into your hair and scalp, then progressing down the torso. Afterwards, they lay me down on a slab of wood. Years of sweat and tinctures oozing from the grain made my body hydroplane. And you know it was the most comfortable board I've ever laid on! Anyways their fingers do more of a poking-swishing dance on your skin, rather than a slow methodical, intense pressuring like the Thai. Speaking of Thai massage, I think the US government should employ about 100, 4 foot 9 inch Thai grannies to massage "the enemy." Trust me if they really do know anything, they'll talk! And it will keep us from violating the Geneva convention.
So the massage ends with a spanking?! (At least I know I got my money's worth???) And then I'm thrown into what looks like a giant wooden hot dog steamer. They like to conclude the makeshift iron lung steaming with a suspended vessel dripping hot oil onto your forehead. Sounded a little too medieval for me, I passed on that part of the torture.
I don't know why it is, what I'm wearing, how I look or if I smell different, but I always seem to attract dirty old men!
I can be hiking through remote villages on Sumba, trying to relax in Budapest or lying on a beach in Sri Lanka with no one around for 1/2 mile and an aberration of a pushy, bald, (80 if he was a day!), old man will appear from nowhere and start coming on to me?!?!?!
At first I thought he was just being friendly, then he flashed me?! Then he flashed me again! Then he flashed his bum?! He was parading back and forth walking a Parisian runway (in his mind) just for little ol' me! Then it hit me maybe he was the ghost from x-mas future and I was scrooge? Maybe this is what I have to look forward to? Maybe I just need to throw on some saffron robes and take a vow of celibacy before I turn into the walking (sexual) dead?! Chilling thoughts...no?
So I splurged and got a (legitimate!) massage; it was of the South Asian variety called Ayurvedic. This Sri Lankan rendition involves sitting you in a chair and working handfuls of mysterious oils into your hair and scalp, then progressing down the torso. Afterwards, they lay me down on a slab of wood. Years of sweat and tinctures oozing from the grain made my body hydroplane. And you know it was the most comfortable board I've ever laid on! Anyways their fingers do more of a poking-swishing dance on your skin, rather than a slow methodical, intense pressuring like the Thai. Speaking of Thai massage, I think the US government should employ about 100, 4 foot 9 inch Thai grannies to massage "the enemy." Trust me if they really do know anything, they'll talk! And it will keep us from violating the Geneva convention.
So the massage ends with a spanking?! (At least I know I got my money's worth???) And then I'm thrown into what looks like a giant wooden hot dog steamer. They like to conclude the makeshift iron lung steaming with a suspended vessel dripping hot oil onto your forehead. Sounded a little too medieval for me, I passed on that part of the torture.
 |
| yes, this is a real phot that I took...adorable, huh?! |
No comments:
Post a Comment