Someone please unscrew my feet at the ankles and then replace them after they’ve been sufficiently massaged, reflexologied (I know, I’m making up words again), and lovingly rubbed with a specialist creme. I’ve been on my dogs all day and could really use some pampering. It’s not that I wore inappropriate shoes ‚Äî I wore possibly my finest footwear, qualifying on multiple levels of comfort and structure ‚Äî but for some reason I beat the tar out of my feet today and would give a arm leg breast tin of tomatoes item of extreme value for an indulgent tootsie rubdown…
(The pedestal implied in the picture is, of course, optional. I’m flexible.)
In other news: We went someplace really interesting (in a quirky sort of way) on Saturday but I haven’t had a spare moment to finish the post and upload the photos. This should happen tomorrow. If wet chalk caves and mannequins depicting tame vignettes of past debauchery interests you, then tune in for a doozie tomorrow. 
Technorati Tags: feet, regularjen
7 Comments
Can anyone say Hellfire Club?
Oh dammit, now i’m a stalker.
I TOLD you to marry someone with a foot fetish, but nooo, you had to pick a cutie-wootie Welshman with an accent that turned you to jelly! Now you can only dream of the loving care a foot fetisher (?) would be giving your suffering tooties!
Goddesses should always be put on pedestals. [A Welshman!!!!! oh dear - Mom (American for Mummikins I assume) how you must worry!].
@Mike: Spoilerpants.
(but I forgive you since you commented and declared yourself a stalker – call me a pushover)
@Mom: Though he speaks with a well-adopted English accent most of the time, it’s so entertaining to listen to him switch accents mid-sentence depending on the situation (like talking to his Dad). In my humble opinion, the Welsh accent is less sexy, but infinitely more adorable.
Now I must train him to worship my feet. More.
@Daddy Papersurfer: I like your thinking… We should take a lesson from TG!
(readers: TG is the Terrible Goddess‚Äö?Ñ?Ƭ¨‚Ćsee Daddy P’s blog for more)
I’m beginning to think I’m stalking daddy papersurfer – we obviously have the same taste in women bloggers.
Now, about those feet, jEN. I have always been grateful that Mrs Blunt has eschewed the very idea of asking me to massage them. Not long into her marriage, I discovered she much preferred to steep them in a (large) washing up bowl filled with warm water and a dash of mustard powder.
At least that leaves me free to practice my foot massage skills on women whose feet are smaller and more perfectly formed.
Mustard powder? Must find a desk reference…
OK You’re a pushover
Shame really, as I did declare myself not to be weird in that email to you!
Anyway, you can’t see my pants from there….or can you?