Maybe if I hired real massage therapists, and not Panda Express employees, I wouldn’t keep having these experiences.
April 13, 2010
So it turns out that I’m a celebrity.
Or, wait, my mom’s a celebrity, so that makes me a celebrity by proxy.
Because we had massages in her living room with her private masseur.
How bourgeoisie is that?
But because we ate left over Costco pizza, I think all the fancy was negated.
So, here’s the weird thing:
she massaged my ARM PITS.
She got right in there, and starting working my prickly and deodorant covered arm pits, like she was kneading some dough.
I didn’t know whether to smack her in the part that her lotion fanny pack covered, or start hysterically gyrating around like a wet noodle.
I did not like it.
Who massages in the arm pit?
Especially the arm pit of a lactating mother.
There are milk ducts in my arm pit.
We could have had a situation.
If she brought some cookies, we could have turned that situation into a par-tay.
Speaking of weird massages…
I’ve also been massaged in my mouth.
Yeah, the masseuse took her gloved finger and shoved it into my mouth and massaged my jaw.
I was like, “Kuld, juew not do that Pulese?”
Oh, and in Paris, I was massaged in between my boobs.
As in, she flipped the covers down, and massaged right in between my bare-naked ta-tas.
I didn’t mind that one so much.
It was like, hey, I’m in Europe, this is normal, right?
Plus I was on my honeymoon and I was just used to being naked and fondled.
WHAT!? did I just say that?
Yes, yes, I did.
Anyone out there have any weird massage stories? Or naked stories. Or fondling stories? Or fanny pack stories?
Please share, because sharing is fun.