Anyway, I decided to take some extra Vicodin, which I try not to do since I take so much regularly, it seems excessive. Possibly because it IS excessive. Still, desperate times call for desperate Vicodin dosages, so I knocked back a couple and climbed on top of my Cold Pack. Do you know of the wonders of Cold Packs? It's a little pillow filed with antifreeze you keep in the freezer and when your back aches, you lie on it. Heaven. It's the best thing for bad backs since, I don't know, ever.
And then as I was lying there I suddenly realized "Man, am I LOADED." Vicodin wins again.
But wait, it gets better. "How can it get better?" you ask. Impertinent dog. It got itself better because after floating around in a drug and anti-freeze induced haze, I decided to go to the Kabuki Spa and have a massage. One of my favorite masseurs, Gabriel, who is large and vigorous and does this foot thing that is the besty thing your feet will ever have, ever, was available, so I was set.
In the steam room there was this charming tiny Asian man with the most perfectly proportioned muscles. Take your left hand and curve it as if you were describing the circumference of a coconut. Now take your right hand and do the same thing. Now put your thumbs together. Amazing, you just made his ass! Mmm baby. Making it even more flagrant was the crisply drawn tan line of a eensy little Speedo. Where someone so small would find one is beyond me. One assumes he either shops in the boys' department or ladies wear, and I'm not sure which possibility is more alluring. Luridly alluring.
Better than this. Imagine.|
Also, the Latino guy with hair like black silk cascading in a ponytail down to the small of his very muscular back. Yes, it's true.
So, to recap, drugs, ice packs, cute naked guys and a great massage. It's a wonderful life.