Massage in a bottle
I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my, message in a bottle are some lyrics from the hit song of 1979 by the popular trio known as 'The Police', and by now, you have rechecked the title to see if you read it correctly cos you thought it said Massage in a bottle, which of course it does, you are right, don't panic your not losing your fucking eyesight. As a big music fan, when I think of a healthy subject to share with you lads, a song always pops into my head of its own accord as if the universe is subliminally instructing me to share my passion for health knowledge and great fucking music all at the same time. So who am I to fuck with the universe. I just go with it.
If you follow my posts, you will already have guessed that the music video is at the bottom of the page, enjoy that later and read my instruction on how to get the most enjoyment out of it. Eh?
Right, back the post at hand(job). I had a great massage last night and before you start judging me, it was not the kind from backstreet money laundering people smuggling outfits where the 'practitioner' doesn't speak a word of English, and at the end tries to get you to part with more cash for a quick 'Sucky Fucky Five Bucks', of course, not speaking the local lingo, the only way she can communicate this is by gently massaging your bollocks whilst staring and smiling at you waiting for a nod of approval. T & C's Apply lol.
My massage was in a reputable health spa and gym that were doing a May Massage Madness event trying to get more people through the door cos lockdown had just eased off a bit. It was 57% off the regular price, the therapist spoke English, the room was dimly lit, the music was soothing, it lasted about an hour and I kept my fucking bundies on. T&C's do not apply lol.
If you have never had a professional therapeutic massage lads I highly recommend that you do, after having a few over the years I can safely say there are no downsides, it's all up up up. The health benefits vary from a mental and physical perspective, and I will share some of those in a bit.
But before we get to that, there are a few things that you need to be aware of if you decide to venture down this road. Me and the wife had our first ever massages whilst on our honeymoon (weekend in Swindon, don't fucking ask) where I fucking loved it and she had her first panic attack at the thought of getting her kit off in front of a complete stranger. I am not that shy and thought it hysterical to put my underpants on my head and grin like a Cheshire Cat to the female therapist entering the room, I missed judged that one let me tell you. After she had calmed down and realised that I was not some sort of sexual deviant, but just a simpleton Welshman with a habit of acting first and thinking later, she forgave me and agreed to continue with the session. This was good news as I had forgone my usual 'ten pints of lager a night' the week before to pay for it all.
I was in my thirties back then and did not know what to expect from a massage session. It is a strange feeling of slight anxiety the first time you go into a room, strip off almost naked, lie face down on a table and patiently wait for a female to come in and start rubbing her hands all over your fatty bits. Thoughts run through your mind. Should I have put clean pants on? I wonder if my feet smell? Will she comment on my Tattoos? How am I going to hold this fart in for another forty-five fucking minutes? What happens if I get a massive hard-on?. Perhaps that last one was prominent in my mind, cos that's exactly what happened to me, not straight away of course, about halfway through as I was drifting in and out what was possibly a minor sleep cycle and I started to relax into the situation. This was no big deal I thought at the time. I was laying on my front, so apart from 'the old boy' feeling a little squashed down there, the therapist bless her was none the wiser. That was until she politely asked me to turn over so she could access the front. Oh, Fuck.
From nice and relaxed to fucking panic-stricken in a couple of microseconds. What to do? Shall I say no thanks I'm quite happy where I am or it's ok, just do the back one more time. Fuck fuck fuck, she waiting, say something, do something. It's weird how you react to situations if you are in an unfamiliar scenario, half-naked and slightly vulnerable, you just do as your fucking told.
So a second later I'm laying on my back with my 'todger' desperately adjusting itself out of the confined space from which it had now been freed. My underpants must have looked like they had an old fashioned Atari joystick in them, being controlled erratically by some invisible hand. So what did I end up doing? That's right, Fuck All. I just kept my eyes closed and let her continue, she did not mention it, after all, so why the hell should I, It would be worst perhaps if I interrupted her work to discuss 'what do I do about this then?' She might have misread it as some sort of 'plea for pleasure' and I might have got a severe slap across the chops. It all went well in the end though, after the session I spoke and apologised to the therapist about my 'stirring of the loins' mid-session, she was very understanding and said it happens all the time don't worry about it. Phew. My wife's session was boring in comparison with only a few sleepy 'bottom burps' slipping out the backdoor, Oh how we laughed later that evening as we discussed over a cup of herbal tea the 'Phallic' and 'Flatulent' goings-on of our first massages, or did we just not talk about it and get pissed and screw instead? I can't quite remember.
This is what I'm talking about lads, Not that white coat maniac pulling you around like a rag doll.
After rambling on about personal experiences, I was just about to get to the part where I discuss the health benefits of a regular massage. But do I really need to? surely it's obvious, your tired muscles get a wake-up call, it will improve blood flow throughout your whole body and the biggest one for me is that it lowers stress. So I am not going down that road. The important message to you working lads is this. Take some time out, be selfish and book yourself a bit of TLC on a regular basis. Save some cash by cutting down on Cigarettes and Alcohol and put that money aside for a satisfying Neck, Back & Shoulders rubbing.