My Massage

Recently I got an hour-long massage, a gift given to me by my wife for Father’s Day (yes, I am adept at procrastination). It was an excellent massage given by the masseuse Melanie. While I was lying there, I wondered if Melanie was thanking her lucky stars that she was rubbing my body and not some fat, wrinkly, old, hairy-backed sap. I mean, c’mon, I am a cut of prime rib compared to a lot of baloney out there. The D-man is fine. There is no denying it. To this point I have kept this confidential, but it is time to let the world know: Tom Cruise, Denzel Washington, Antonio Banderas and Leonardo DiCaprio all look to me for their grooming, wardrobe and hairstyle inspiration. Ben Affleck wanted to consult with me, but, please… I have to have SOME standards. Of course, the ladies… ah, the ladies… Let’s just say they like what Daddy has to offer. Pam Anderson, Jennifer Aniston, Scarlett Johansen, Kim Basinger, Sarah Jessica Parker… the list goes on and on of misguided women who have made attempts to ensnare and seduce me. You know that Demi Moore-Ashton Kutcher thing? She only did that after I spurned her advances. Wait…uh, huh? You mean the massage is over? I guess I must have fallen asleep dreaming…