The Spa Life, or Gravity Wins

I decided to celebrate my escape from civil service servitude with an afternoon at Kabuki Spa. It's been cold and rainy here; a spell in the steam room seemed immensely appealing. Turns out many of the patrons were, too.

Considering how firmly the management frowns on sexual shenanigans at the spa, there certainly were a lot of stiffy and semi-stiffy bits on parade. Of course, mrpeenee averted my eyes, but even if you don't look, you can't help but see.

Especially notable were two smallish, but well-built boys complete with charming treasure trails and the cutest, roundest, perky little bottoms ever. In a word, spankable. Every time they would enter the steam room. you could sense every geezer antennae spring into action. Beepbeepbeepbeep. Of course the boys were resolutely oblivious. That is their role in life.

And I speak from deep within the geezer camp. Life happens. You start out all skinny and smooth and stuff and one day you look down and realize you have a paunch. The fuck? Threeway mirrors become the enemy when you see your ass has started to sag. "I didn't even have an ass," you think. "How is this possible?" I'll tell you how - gravity wins. Gravity always wins.

Still it was a lovely day at the spa.

Also, I spent hours tonight looking for a photo illustrating "treasure trail" with no luck. Again, the fuck? This is the closest I came, the always estimable Mike Timber and his fairly faint trail.

I blame manscaping.