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.