Vulcan Death Massage
I had more caffeine yesterday than I usually consume in a month, so suffice to say I didn't sleep too soundly. My alarm is set to go off at 6:45am but by 5:30 I gave up and got out of bed. I'd been tossing and turning all night, and my cat's big yellow eyes were piercing at me while she meowed loudly in my face. I stumbled into the kitchen for some water and a waffle, sore and generally achy. Since I was up early with nothing planned, I walked down to the park to chase the ducks for a while.
When I got to the office I was still stiff, but I remembered I had a gift certificate for the local spa stashed away from Christmas. I called and made an appointment for a 30 minute massage right after work. I'm not one that usually whiles away hours at the salon, I don't generally have that luxury in life. However, I did read in Cosmo recently that due to the mass increase in genital hair removal, there has been a drastic decrease in the cases of pubic lice. Thus I'm trying to convince my insurance company that it's medically necessary for me to get brazilian waxing. I can't stand nether stubble.
I've never had a massage before, but I'm pretty big on making sure my spiritual energy flows right, and massage seemed all kinds of metaphysical enough to do that. After signing away on some disclaimer form, I was asked for the first time in 8 months to take off all my clothes and get under the sheets. I set about tossing my clothes in a heap in the corner and even removed my two token rings -- my celtic knot band and my dragon spinner.

After settling myself face down on a nice cushy table I tried to get my relaxation mojo working with the candles and soft music. What I didn't realize was that somehow this massage was going to push the shit out of some of my bones. I've been cracking my neck profusely lately and I don't know if she was pushing on it so hard because of that, or because she was practicing the Vulcan death grip! Relaxing? Mildly, at least when I didn't have bony fingers jabbing into my shoulder blades. About an hour later I did start noticing that I felt better. Though next time I think I'll just go soak in a tub.
When I got to the office I was still stiff, but I remembered I had a gift certificate for the local spa stashed away from Christmas. I called and made an appointment for a 30 minute massage right after work. I'm not one that usually whiles away hours at the salon, I don't generally have that luxury in life. However, I did read in Cosmo recently that due to the mass increase in genital hair removal, there has been a drastic decrease in the cases of pubic lice. Thus I'm trying to convince my insurance company that it's medically necessary for me to get brazilian waxing. I can't stand nether stubble.
I've never had a massage before, but I'm pretty big on making sure my spiritual energy flows right, and massage seemed all kinds of metaphysical enough to do that. After signing away on some disclaimer form, I was asked for the first time in 8 months to take off all my clothes and get under the sheets. I set about tossing my clothes in a heap in the corner and even removed my two token rings -- my celtic knot band and my dragon spinner.

After settling myself face down on a nice cushy table I tried to get my relaxation mojo working with the candles and soft music. What I didn't realize was that somehow this massage was going to push the shit out of some of my bones. I've been cracking my neck profusely lately and I don't know if she was pushing on it so hard because of that, or because she was practicing the Vulcan death grip! Relaxing? Mildly, at least when I didn't have bony fingers jabbing into my shoulder blades. About an hour later I did start noticing that I felt better. Though next time I think I'll just go soak in a tub.

I've never been a big fan of store bought massage. I'm glad you were finally able to relax.
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