Reasons you will hate me

How to trick people into having a spa party*.

If you know me you will be well aware I have a fondness for spa-based SEX PARTIES. Now, these things don't just happen of their own accord. You expect writhing naked people to simply fall into your lap while steaming water bubbles around you? Please. You are so not the Fonz. Deal with it.
Here are some things you should do to trick four people into having a spa/sex-party with you:

- Take them to Daylesford . Spa capital of Victoria. Not to mention a hotbed of lesbians and craft.
- Book a five-person private spa at the Hepburn Spa complex . As a 'surprise'.
- Buy champagne, or similar (NB: Stones Ginger Wine is completely inappropriate for this kind of activity).
- Hustle them into private room, giggle nervously and say: 'Well, I guess we're here then'.
- On signal from partner-in-crime , languidly strip off clothes and slide into hot, aromatic spa waters.
- Watch as remaining spa-goers glance uncomfortably at each other, nervously pulling at their bather-elastic.
- Crack open the champagne. Say 'It's lovely once you're in!'
- Watch them clamber in. Gently tease them about being prudish. Say 'These jets feel so good when you're naked!'
- Loll sensually. Wink randomly. Enjoy sensation of pressuring slightly tipsy friends into taking clothes off.
- Make boorish whooping noise when bathers are finally peeled from bodies, not unlike meat-headed crowd on The Footy Show right after Sam Newman has twisted his sucked-back face into some form resembling human expression and referred to someone gay as a 'semen demon'.
- Ply friends with more champagne. Hum the tune 'Hey, Big Spender' from Sweet Charity under your breath. Compliment certain folk on their buff physique. Have they been working out?
- Delicately start probing big toe up random orificies. Watch as people first cry out in pain and then become accustomed to sensation. p.s. This is actually worse than it sounds. I have a freakishly large big toe. You can see a picture of it here . Mine is the one with Gabi's initials tattooed on it. The toe is so big it doesn't fit in the photograph. Yes, me and Gabi have each others' initials tattooed on our feet. That's what award-winning best friends we are.
- Sneak hand over to fondle mad cans. Whose? It's impossible to tell with all the bubbles. And it's not like it matters at this stage.
- Nod approval to partner-in-crime as he lazily slips an arm over bathing beauties and cracks a raging boner.
- Stand up suddenly and shout: 'THIS IS THE SIGNAL!! SEX PARTY, SEX PARTY!! LET'S MAKE WITH THE CRAZY DAMP AND POTENTIALLY LIFE-THREATENING FUCK!'



You see how easy it is? Try it for yourself and let me know how you go.




(of course, you don't always need other people to have yourself a little fun in the spa, right?)




*Although you should totally be careful about this. When I was eighteen, some creepy older guy I was working on a death-metal music video with took me to a two-person spa in a private room and automatically started stripping off. Feeling completely overwhelmed and caught off-guard I did the same, not at all comfortable with getting naked in front of him. It was only with the benefit of hindsight that I realised any man who leeringly uses the sentence: 'I love the taste of teenage pussy' whilst simulatenously having a pregnant girlfriend was an out-and-out cocktard to be avoided at all costs. So if you're some slimy dickwad working on getting a spa party going with a near-hairless wee thing, go suck a fuck. And make it the fuck of Alan Jones while you're at it. You deserve it.



p.s. No bloggers were psychologically damaged in the real-life version of this post.



1006 days til the next election.

Also I am dj-ing at Ding Dong Lounge tonight if you want to come and hear the hot music. Shameless self-promotion complete.

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