I want to spend a whole week at a spa. I.E. A whole week! I want to detox, blow things out my colon (preferably that last ten pounds of fat my abs are hiding under), do underwater yoga, hike places, eat from a raw organic vegetarian amish kosher menu, and meditate on my severe inner beauty. EXTREME!! I do not need some $90 sea-floor mud mask dripping into my nose, I need to get whipped into shape so that when I come back people will tell me I’m glowing like a prego. I don’t know what all this crap is about “oh pampering! so fun! Oprah says I deserve it and she’s rich so of course she knows.” Bull fricken crap. Being middle class is like living your entire life in pampers; what I want is health-nut shiatsu dominatrixes exfoliating me with granola bars so that, when I finally make it back home I, realize how sweet it is just to sit around watching reruns of 30 Minute Meals with my silky soft self.
Rancho de la Puerta out.
