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The Sanduny Spa: Where Bliss is Only the Beginning

December 31, 2014 Leave a comment Go to comments
By Eric Gelsinger

By Eric Gelsinger

Eric Gelsinger may or may not be the owner of the Sanduny Spa. This may or may not be a paid advertisement.

How do you feel RIGHT NOW!? Touch your spleen –is it turgid with bile? Palpate your gall bladder –is it angular? might you say even grinning? Do you feel that simply checking your truck-phone Prime Choice Singles Match inbox requires an exertion of heart and mind beyond your wildest imagination? Is your own name hateful to you, especially in the mouth of your insane landlord who has been vacuuming for 122 hours straight? Do you despise Time because it is the medium within which YOU –damn you!! – exist? Is the only thing stopping you from mercifully offing your miserable self the thought of all that effort? Well, it’s time to go to the Spa!!!!

How do I know? Because I’ve been, there, Lankville. I know what it’s like when your every thought is an atrocity against the laws of man and nature, and you’ve eaten all the caramel and cheddar popcorn, and you’ve run at the mirror with that ladder your raving lunatic neighbor gifted you for “Occultation Eve,” and you’ve donned iron boots to walk upon its fragments, and in the silver nitrate dust run again at the unfaded vestige on the wallpaper, until the floral print has torn asunder and the nightmarishly pink insulation has spilled out the plaster and yet the eidola of your image remains, so panting for breath you charge again. I know, Lankville. But I also know what it’s like to feel like this! WHOOPIEWHOOPWHOOPWOOPOOOOOOWHOOPWHOOPWHOOPIEDOOOO!!!

Sanduny Sauna Spa (photo by John Barlow)

Sanduny Sauna Spa (photo by John Barlow)

What’s the difference between obsessive ramrodding self-hate, and vacant happiness? One trip to the Sanduny Spa!

Come to the Sanduny Spa, and feel the maniacal grin melt right off your bruised face as you enjoy a healthy steam. In the Foreign Area bath, sink into the pleasure as your self-inflicted wounds throb with hedonistic abandon. Treat yourself to a full-body massage –you’ll feel like your bipedal form is a bulbous balloon-animal twisting and squeaking in the hands of THE HAPPIEST CLOWN IN THE UNIVERSE. You bet your bippy, a day at the Sanduny Spa is like sitting spread legged in the tool shed with a shogun barrel in your mouth, only these shells are loaded with 100% LEADEN ECSTASY! Ch-ch-BANG! Ch-ch-BANG! Ch-ch-BANG! BANG! BANG! Can you feel it? Can you feel the long-awaited joy detonating in every concussed cavity of your living corpse? Well wait until you try “The Gimlet.”

So when you want it all to end, drive blindly and wildly all the way to the Sanduny Spa, where bliss is only the beginning, and everything in between, and more, and then some, and there’s no such thing as a little to much or a lot.

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