Last night – a wine and cheese fondue fest at Artisanal with 4 good friends. Decadence unleashed.
A day at the Turkish baths. Filled with macho half-naked Russians.
One of the men was built like a real-life Ken Doll, the epitome of perfection – sculpted breast plate, sculpted thighs, bright blonde hair, very handsome face. There is a machismo in spa-going for these people – how hot can you take the steam room? How long can you take it? It’s none of this pansy-assed day-spa nonsense, where you are pampered and coddled. The Turkish baths are hard-core.
Later, discussing the Ken Doll, my friend Felicia said (and this is a word-for-word quote):
“He looked like an Aryan youth.” Pause. “Only he was Russian and he was an adult.”
and he had no penis.
not that i would know.
Ah, the famous Ken doll definition.
“He looked just like Zaphod Beeblebrox, except he only had the one head and the two arms…”
Sorry, still wrapped up in the whole Hitchhiker radio thing. Have you heard these, Sheila?
I sound like the world’s biggest airhead.
(insert lock jawed Valley Girl accent here)
“Oh my Gawd! He looked like, you know, an Aryan youth, only he was Russian….and an adult!”
I’ll blame it on the heat in the Russian Oven!
Cheers Sheila.
Oh yeah…and did I also mention that my Ken Doll/Aryan Youth prototype was not only in the 100+ degree Russian oven with a freakin’ knit cap on (to induce more sweating….guess it wasn’t hot enough in the oven for Sasha), he was also willfully allowing himself to be briskly beaten from head to toe with oak branches. Dude was HARDCORE!
We have to go soon Sheila….you’ll have a lot more material for the blog after we do!
Cheers! Again.