As I type pondering it doesn't really look right to me, preferring the Jerseyism - pondle, which as you might anticipate is a combination of ponder and fondle. Hey, as a massage therapist, I'm a tactile thinker. That's my story and I stick to it. Well, and I have this whole semi-permanent soft porn reel looping through my head. Anyway, in my abundant free time (ha) I had an opportunity to take a real good look at my hands and forearms. For a large woman (I'm a shade under 5'10" fresh out of the chiropractor) my hands are small in length, but wide and for lack of a better word, thick. More than once my forearms have gathered some notice, especially memorable was the time, a friend said, "Hey Sheena, Pop-Eye called, he wants his forearms back." All in all, I'd say among my untattooed appendages they're my favorites.
I recall one experience during my clinical training as a massage therapist, the client, a woman in her late middle years, exclaiming for the better part of a half hour that my hands were so big. Good that she was prone, because, I looked at my hands, looked at her as if she had lost her mind and kept right on with what I was doing. Other people heard her remarks and after the massages were over came to investigate. To a person, we responded, what the fuck?
13 October 2008
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1 comment:
Illustrating once again, that "hell is other people."
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