What's REALLY going on here?

Spotted this little item in a Daily News article the other day, "New York's weirdest spa treatments":

PLATZA OAK LEAF TREATMENT, Russian Turkish Baths, 268 E. 10th St.; $35. (212) 473-8806.

What to expect: The hottest treatment on this list. Clients sweat it out in a traditional Russian communal sauna - kept at far higher temperatures than usual. Next, they are swatted with a bundle of birch branches dipped in olive oil. "It's not pampering," said Melisse Gelula, editor-in-chief of Spafinder Lifestyle. Brace for it: The whole thing is finished off with a plunge in ice-cold water.

What it does: "The belief is that it stimulates circulation, which is good for the immune system, like when you pat your cheeks and get a rosy glow," Gelula added.

Okay, does this mean what I THINK it means? I did a quick search and found THIS blog. Tell me what you think. I'm really curious now about this treatment.

The vanillas are invading

My brother came to visit today from South Jersey. Originally, we were going to go to the Mets game this afternoon, but since it was raining on and off all morning, we didn't think that was a great idea. It started thundering and pouring later on, so I was pretty glad about our decision.

He was already on his way so we had to have him over at our apartment for a visit instead. Rad and I did a quick sweep of the area to hide any "goods." We spotted one suspect DVD on the entertainment center, which we moved to the bedroom, but we didn't think there was anything else.

My brother is very curious, and, as usual, spent a lot of time looking at and commenting on things in the apartment. He's also a photographer, and was snapping a few shots of my cats. At one point he turned on the hallway light to get a better shot of my orange cat. I looked over and, there in the corner near the bathroom door, saw this:
"This" is a poster tube that we'd stored some of our canes in temporarily. The thing sticking up in the middle is a birch switch (see Canes 4 Pain); there are about eight other canes in that container.

You can see one of the larger canes also visible near the top of the tube. I'm thinking to myself, Oh, jeez. Here we go. I'm finally going to have to answer some 'questions.'

This is the one brother that would probably be pretty open-minded about all of "this thing we do," but that doesn't mean I'm ready to talk about it with family. Thinking, thinking, thinking ... what could I pass off these canes for if he asked about them? I do a lot of crafts, and there's a possibility he could accept that I was using them to make a "frame" or some other decoration ... eh, probably not.

What happens next is he goes into the kitchen briefly to take more cat pictures. I quickly step over, grab the tube, slip it into the bedroom and close the door. Whew! No questions! Did he notice it at all? Who knows? We are safe from the vanillas one more day.

A spanko's heart goes all aflutter

It's not polite to swoon in Bed, Bath, and Beyond. But this was a pretty awesome display. Suffice it to say Sandy has a new toy, and Rad used it on her last night. hm hm hm. Swooning ensued at home...

Fantasy street

My friend hosted a party last weekend at her mom's apartment on 90th Street between Central Park West and Columbus. Let's just say, NICE neighborhood. I tend to gawk at the brownstones whenever I find myself in one of these sections of town. I stopped to take a few pictures, and then looked quickly around, half-expecting the neighborhood watch matron to come swooping down on me to tell me there is no picture taking allowed -- and then demand a photo ID, Social Security Card, and 2007 W2s to see if I earned enough to qualify for the right to walk down this block.

I mean, people are friendly here -- I said hello to a family out walking their cocker spaniel and they said hello back -- but let's get real, they are making a LOT more money than I do. I ain't living anyplace like this anytime soon. Maybe if I DO write my novel (not the fantasy novel that I joked about being almost finished on MySpace earlier today).

So, that's one fantasy of mine -- a Manhattan address. Overall, it's not a HUGE goal. I hate my commute, I hate being jammed like cattle into the train because there are never enough trains, and I don't like that our apartment is so small. But Queens is nice; we have a place to park our car for free, it's pretty quiet, and we aren't killing ourselves paying the mortgage and expenses. It's also pretty safe, and except for our crotchety neighbor downstairs who's always complaining about noise, I like the people in the building.

Sigh... it's just that I've always wanted a STOOP. Not like the fancy one above, just one of the straight old brownstone stoops. I used to read stories about this when I was little ... families would all be out after dinner, would shout across the way to each other; everyone would hang out on the stoop. Or, "all the kids out on the stoop," from that Paul Simon song. (Where I come from in South Jersey it's just "the front steps" or "the front porch.") If I had a stoop, I swear, I would be out there every night, playing my guitar, or writing, or reading, watching the kids playing in the street.

All right, all right. I know. It does no good, really, to pine away for something I don't need, anyway. If we really wanted to live in Manhattan, we COULD find a way to do it. But we're better off putting our money away for better causes right now. Like flying to Vegas for Shadow Lane parties... or, that pesky retirement savings.

Damsel in distress?

I was having too much fun to look "in distress." Like I said in my last post, everyone should be hog-tied (not to mention spanked) once in a while.

Saturday night scene party

Saturday night was all about bondage, whipping, exhibitionism, flogging, and spanking, with some very cool new people, old friends, and discussions about MySpace vs. FetLife, getting over shyness, judgment within the scene, and, of all things, our pets... This was a party we attended in Jersey City, hosted by T&J, a kinky couple who are writers and actors.

M. was there, an old friend that I hadn't seen in ages. I don't think we've played since before I met Paul. Our last scene, on the main stage at Paddles NYC, he had tied me up over my dress, took out a knife and cut the dress off me, then single-tailed me. It was pretty hot...

Last night we got to play. M. likes bondage and is very good at it, so he tied me up nicely so my arms were immobile. He used very pretty rope from Rainbow Ropes, which felt great. Then he single-tailed me. Ooh, nasty. He got me good. He was rather evil, as a matter of fact, whipping my breasts more than my back. I have very sensitive breasts... He also struck my stomach, and I have a few welts that I can feel through my shirt this morning.

At one point he began to use two whips at once, telling me to hold my arms out at the sides, and gently wrapping the tails around my upper arms. THAT felt good. Then he got mean again, snapping them rapidly around my body. The leather wrapped completely around my body and struck in the front. I was gasping and yelping when the ends struck my breasts. Then he told me to spread my legs and the wrap-around whipping continued there. Ouch! He gave me a couple of painful strokes right by my knees -- and I LOVE the lines, but this means I'll have to wear pants or longer shorts for the next couple of days, and it's been in the 90s here. That's my ONLY complaint about our scene; otherwise it was beautiful.

Oh, yeah, near the end M. took out some leather floggers. He flogged my breasts -- again, very hard to take -- but he didn't do it for long. He signaled to Rad, and asked Rad to take over. Rad got an evil look in his eye and he began to flog my front. Damn! That hurt! M. was behind me, flogging my back -- THAT felt good. I love getting the attention from both ends.

Since I was still tied up and not going anyway, Paul made me bend over and he paddled me -- with one of Kittys paddles, which are pretty but nasty hardwood implements.

What a great party, what a fun night! And that wasn't even the end of it. I'll talk about my hogtie scene in another post... I was a greedy attention whore, but I don't care. I think I'll keep doing it as long as people are willing to do it TO me!

God bless my i-Pod, God bless Springsteen

(AKA, another commuting blog)

Today my i-Pod's shuffle mode takes me to “Wild Billy’s Circus Story” as the R train hurtles us toward Manhattan. You don’t often hear tuba in a rock song ^-- all right, it’s not REALLY a rock song – but, did ever listen to these lyrics? Well, of COURSE you've listened to the lyrics, if you have any taste in music and, therefore, are a Springsteen fan. Disturbing. Springsteen’s early genius in evidence. Phantom Dan Federici’s touch was all over it, too.

Train pulls into 42^nd Street/Times Square. “God save the human cannonball!” Song ends; I click backward through the i-Pod selections, go to the previous album in line, “Born to Run.”

I stop on “She’s the One,” listen and reminisce as I walk through the station. Another great song. I am momentarily distracted by a pretty and confident-looking woman in a tightly cinched black dress, high-heeled, of course, stepping briskly past me toward the downtown trains. Turning my head to check her out (yes, I’m a guy sometimes), I almost run into someone else.

Focus!

Up the stairs, cross the open area where “Andes Fusion” is setting up for their first song of the day. The pony-tailed mandolin player is tuning up. But I only hear Springsteen through my ear phones. It makes me happy -- is that all right? -- and it makes everything seem okay. It’s Fourth of July Asbury Park. “The fireworks are hailing over Little Eden tonight…”

Must a day’s work come up and ruin a good mood? Let’s hope not. “Hey Sandy Girl, ma ma ma ma ma baby…”

bunny head

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Just moved my blog here

In order to make life easier, I've moved my blog over here, under the umbrella of Ms. Cassandra Park's email. This will let me go back and forth between my two blogs (the other is "The Corporal Consultant") without having to sign out. At the moment, I'm not planning on moving any old posts, so if you'd like to see something I wrote earlier it's at cat not so crazy

Will try and have a real post tomorrow.

Goodnight