The past week has been hell. Was stressed beyond all thresholds of my working life. Wait. Except that time when I was in KPMG and the new accounting standard came out requiring auditors to compute backlogs of deferred tax and I didn't know how to do it and nobody wanted to teach me and I was working till the wee hours in the morning sobbing in helpless agony. Oh and the crazy deadlines of my first ad agency. And and. Ah, fuck it. Work has been stressing me out full stop.
My home computer is resurrected! Alive and kicking dawgs and bitches! Now if I could just figure out how to get my sound card to work... But then that's what little brothers (not part of my anatomy excuse me) are for. So I shall wait for him to come (by car you moron) this weekend.
So what reports do I owe? Let's see.
(1) Bangkok trip summary and pictures. Boo has already posted lots in her Flickr. Albeit my strict warnings not to put up pictures with me inside just in case history bites my ass 20 years down the road at the wrong time. No there're no nekkid pictures so no need to bribe Boo.
(2) Meeting Pinkpig before she flew off to Taiwan from Australia. Hmm but I think I wrote something about that already but the haze is making my lungs as black as Wesley Snipes and my brain is suffocated from lack of oxygen.
(3) The haze. The fucking haze.
(4) The violation of my left nipple.
I think I'll cover (3) and (4) since they don't require accompanying pictures. Especially (4) you pervert.
I'm smoking again. I'm gonna blame the stress working 3 jobs. And the haze that's gonna be around till end of the year, killing my eyes, scorching my throat, and blackening my lungs. The monumental pack of Salem Lights sitting in my pen holder that used to proudly mark my indifference to ciggies suddenly became... rational. Ah whatever.
My masseur in Bangkok molested me. It was my first Swedish Oil Body Massage (and last thank you you asshole) and I thought there wouldn't be any problem with male masseurs (why the fuck did the counter-lady give us male masseurs? Because we're meek-looking, polite Asians is it?) because, hell, they're professionals innit? I suppose they've seen thousands of women half nekkid in all shapes and sizes, doing what they do. And Boo didn't hesitate after the initial exchange of "what! we gonna have male masseurs!" looks with me. So I excitedly prepared for my pampering.
I didn't like it. He was pressing too hard even after I told him not to. My spine felt like it's gonna break or pop out of my skin like that female alien show with the 30-second full frontal. I told myself to get rid of the massage-virgin worries and damn well enjoy it since I paid. Then his hands wriggle beneath the towel covering my breasts and started kneading them. Hard. OUCH FUCKER. I looked over at Boo. Her male masseur wasn't doing that to her. But then she started a bit later than me so maybe he'll start later on her too. And maybe I'm just acting like an Asian prude, the foreign ladies who come here are probably okay with this. Breast massage is said to lessen the chance of breast cancer right? Right?
But I still felt uncomfortable. And I guess I was in too much shock to actually ask him to stop. (any of you who think this might be a chuckle-inducing time for the opportune "maybe you're enjoying it, heh heh heh"... don't. I've always wondered breaking fingers sound like and this seems like a good time for me to find out) Then the fucker pinched my left nipple. My hands shot up in reflex, smacking his hands away. Macibai. Maybe I should've made slapping guys part of my usual habit so I could slap his face 30 times in reflex. And strangle him with my bra then plead temporary hysterical insanity.
I sat up. He immediately set to work on my shoulders and back without saying anything. Again, I was too shocked to do anything. My mind was racing and trying to catch up with what just happened. I guess I zoned out for a bit because when I came to the massage was over. He watched me put my clothes back on, handed me my slippers and asked me to come again tomorrow. Smiling.
It wasn't until the walk back to our guest house and I complained to Boo and she said her masseur didn't do anything of that kind to her, that I realised I have been molested. Gaaaargh! And I actually paid money to get molested! STUPIDITY TO THE MAXIMUM! Come to think of it, he was massaging my thighs a lot. And let his fingers slip into my panties up my ass cheeks a few times. And I thought it's because his hands were too oily. Bugger!
But, being the demure and cincai Asian that I am, I didn't storm back into the shop and kick him in the groin. I just swallow the humility and whine to anyone who would listen. And blog about it.
FUCK I FEEL SO STUPID.
I'll not be having any oil massage for a long long time.
My home computer is resurrected! Alive and kicking dawgs and bitches! Now if I could just figure out how to get my sound card to work... But then that's what little brothers (not part of my anatomy excuse me) are for. So I shall wait for him to come (by car you moron) this weekend.
So what reports do I owe? Let's see.
(1) Bangkok trip summary and pictures. Boo has already posted lots in her Flickr. Albeit my strict warnings not to put up pictures with me inside just in case history bites my ass 20 years down the road at the wrong time. No there're no nekkid pictures so no need to bribe Boo.
(2) Meeting Pinkpig before she flew off to Taiwan from Australia. Hmm but I think I wrote something about that already but the haze is making my lungs as black as Wesley Snipes and my brain is suffocated from lack of oxygen.
(3) The haze. The fucking haze.
(4) The violation of my left nipple.
I think I'll cover (3) and (4) since they don't require accompanying pictures. Especially (4) you pervert.
I'm smoking again. I'm gonna blame the stress working 3 jobs. And the haze that's gonna be around till end of the year, killing my eyes, scorching my throat, and blackening my lungs. The monumental pack of Salem Lights sitting in my pen holder that used to proudly mark my indifference to ciggies suddenly became... rational. Ah whatever.
My masseur in Bangkok molested me. It was my first Swedish Oil Body Massage (and last thank you you asshole) and I thought there wouldn't be any problem with male masseurs (why the fuck did the counter-lady give us male masseurs? Because we're meek-looking, polite Asians is it?) because, hell, they're professionals innit? I suppose they've seen thousands of women half nekkid in all shapes and sizes, doing what they do. And Boo didn't hesitate after the initial exchange of "what! we gonna have male masseurs!" looks with me. So I excitedly prepared for my pampering.
I didn't like it. He was pressing too hard even after I told him not to. My spine felt like it's gonna break or pop out of my skin like that female alien show with the 30-second full frontal. I told myself to get rid of the massage-virgin worries and damn well enjoy it since I paid. Then his hands wriggle beneath the towel covering my breasts and started kneading them. Hard. OUCH FUCKER. I looked over at Boo. Her male masseur wasn't doing that to her. But then she started a bit later than me so maybe he'll start later on her too. And maybe I'm just acting like an Asian prude, the foreign ladies who come here are probably okay with this. Breast massage is said to lessen the chance of breast cancer right? Right?
But I still felt uncomfortable. And I guess I was in too much shock to actually ask him to stop. (any of you who think this might be a chuckle-inducing time for the opportune "maybe you're enjoying it, heh heh heh"... don't. I've always wondered breaking fingers sound like and this seems like a good time for me to find out) Then the fucker pinched my left nipple. My hands shot up in reflex, smacking his hands away. Macibai. Maybe I should've made slapping guys part of my usual habit so I could slap his face 30 times in reflex. And strangle him with my bra then plead temporary hysterical insanity.
I sat up. He immediately set to work on my shoulders and back without saying anything. Again, I was too shocked to do anything. My mind was racing and trying to catch up with what just happened. I guess I zoned out for a bit because when I came to the massage was over. He watched me put my clothes back on, handed me my slippers and asked me to come again tomorrow. Smiling.
It wasn't until the walk back to our guest house and I complained to Boo and she said her masseur didn't do anything of that kind to her, that I realised I have been molested. Gaaaargh! And I actually paid money to get molested! STUPIDITY TO THE MAXIMUM! Come to think of it, he was massaging my thighs a lot. And let his fingers slip into my panties up my ass cheeks a few times. And I thought it's because his hands were too oily. Bugger!
But, being the demure and cincai Asian that I am, I didn't storm back into the shop and kick him in the groin. I just swallow the humility and whine to anyone who would listen. And blog about it.
FUCK I FEEL SO STUPID.
I'll not be having any oil massage for a long long time.
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