It’s been a taxing week. For me … and I’m sure for everyone. For that reason, I thought we could all use a good laugh right about now.
Over the course of my three appointments so far, I’ve learned a lot about breast enhancement techniques that all seem to involve general anesthesia, some healing time and chunks of cash large enough to make me take pause. Perhaps instead I should just be hopping a plane to Bangkok to seek out Khemmikka Na Songkhla, the sole proprietor of the first-ever boob-slapping spa (which, for those interested, apparently also services the face and butt).
I like Thai food. Maybe I could make a weekend out of it.
Songkhla’s clients are drawn in to the spa (a term I’ll use loosely) to have their breasts slapped repeatedly by this woman with the expectation of increased shapeliness and size. This “procedure” actually sheds a whole new light on the pain that women … and I’m betting a few men, too … around the world are willing to endure in the name of beauty. Although, I guess we really crossed that line years ago when we started injecting poison (the rat variety, if memory serves) into our faces to stave off a few unsightly lines, didn’t we?
I’m sure her clients leave the spa with reddened faces, either at the repeated strikings of Madame Songkhla or perhaps due to fact that they’ve just been royally screwed. Of course, we do apply reddening blushes to our faces. And I remember Scarlett O’Hara pinching her pre-Maybelline era cheeks in pursuit of pink youthfulness. So, maybe there’s something to it. But I really think all that slapping would just serve to piss me off. Still, I would imagine that over the years I have ticked off my fair share of people. Some of them might even be reading … right now.
Tell you what.
If you have any interest in beating the crap out of my boobs and maybe saving me a few pennies, send me a message. We can make a day of it … and even do lunch after. On me.
Click below to see a subtitle-riddled video of this mind-boggling technique.
OldDogNewTits 
Funny. And I think you’re in for some very scary but hopefully entertaining emails after this post!
Scary?
Well, “beating the crap out of my boobs”, plus lunch!
You don’t expect some…odd replies?
But it’s a great post, and you have a great sense of humor about your topic. I’m enjoying reading it.
(though as a guy, I have no idea what I’ll do with the information…)
Ah, well, I don’t really have any enemies. Of course, now that I’ve printed that, I’ve probably unintentionally dared someone to step up.
To all reading, I do not actually wish to be beaten … at any time … in the boobs or anywhere else, for that matter. I would, however, still love to do lunch.
Thanks, El Guapo. (Hoping it’s a ‘Three Amigos’ reference. Choice senses of humor are hard to come by.) Please keep tuning in. I veer off the topic of boobs from time to time and will be doing so exclusively once this project reaches its fruition.
Funny thing… 15 years ago Dirk and I went to Thailand for a two week vacation. I personally adore Thai massage (the stretching/ knuckle and joint cracking kind of massage). I had a Thai massage at an expensive, Western hotel in Bangkok by a Thai masseuse. While doing the massage, she asked if I wanted abdominal and breast massage. In the spirit of “when in Rome”, I said yes (when else would I be able to experience that?—no comments from the peanut gallery). Firstly, I HIGHLY DO NOT RECOMMEND AN ABDOMINAL MASSAGE!!!!! it’s like being punched in the gut for 5 minutes. Secondly, the “breast massage” consisted of slapping my boobs around for 2-3 minutes. Finally, now, I understand what in the hell she was attempting to do. Btw, didn’t work. I’ll be seeing your surgeon #1 once I grow testicles and inherit $10K, lol.
Kathy, If you grow testicles, I’m not sure a breast specialist should be the first stop on your tour.