Thursday, December 10, 2009

Massage

During my one and only trip to coastarica, Kamikaze kept saying, "There! I bet I can get a massage there", or something to that effect.

I'm in a similar state. In need of a massage. Once upon a time I called up one of those numbers listed in the classifieds. You know, the beauty section. I don't know why I did it. Probably boredom. Or something else. But it was a sato afternoon and I figured why not. I think I asked whether they can do the kind of stuff that makes paralysed guys walk again [a yes], where they [she?] were located and how much it would cost a guy. I think they mentioned a location is some exotic residential area and seeing as I didn't own a car, I didn't consider it further. Not to say that if they were located next door the outcome would have been different. Blue pill, red pill, who knows what would have happened.

Now I've had a bad back for the longest time so it's not totally new the situation I'm in now. But I think I'm in serious need of a massage. There was a time one of my workmates had one and apparently it made him all better. Or was that physiotherapy. I've heard a few other working folks having the same done. Perhaps it's just another occupational hazard. Or we aren't getting enough sunshine or something. Now that I wouldn't place myself in the hands of the lovely people in the classifieds [tempting as that may be], and my phonebook has exactly zero chics to whom I can suggest such an exercise, I'm left with the guys in white coats.

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