Im Not a Jerkoff Artist, I’m a Massage Therapist; the Cesspool of Ignorant Internet Fools

Let me educate you on the differences between a “masseuse” and a massage therapist, m’kay?

I’ve recently had a super huge change in my life. Remember my recent post about Tornado dreams and how they always come up when something is about to change in my life? Well, the huge was that I started school again. And not just an ordinary school, no, not for the always random DT5. Instead of continuing to work on a degree I could care less about in communication, I’ve gone with something that makes me feel like I could make a difference in someone’s life. Massage therapy school.

Yes, I plan to go from rough and tough military chick to a massage therapist helping people with their stress and pain. It seems sorta left field for even the people who know me, but it has been something I wanted to do for a while. I was just making as many excuses as possible because of fear and stress. But I these excuses didn’t fly for my heart anymore (lost many feathers, been on the sauce). So I went to a local massage school with the intention of window shopping, and walked out with most of my paperwork filled out, paid for, and a start date.

A huge change. And a step in the right direction for my life. My family and the Dude have been super supportive, even though the Dude and Monster Teen know that it means I’ll be spending less time with them (well, Monster Teen was more concerned about home cooked meals. Like I sit around in the kitchen that much in the first place, pffft). But it’s okay with them because it makes me excited and happy.

And then I made a post on Facebook talking about my new exciting adventure. First thing I get? Some buttholepottomis saying:

“So you’re going to school to learn how to feel people up?” I try to take it as a joke and say that maybe he needs school for that but I don’t. And then let him know that since he’s confused as to what a massage therapist does, he will not be a client of mine. Some time goes by and then I get another “joker”.

“So you learn how to give happy endings? Sign me up!”

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Are you frickin kidding me?! Let me clear that these two aholes are not close friends of mine, they are associates. And I don’t make sexual jokes with associates. I don’t look at their dream jobs and flat-out sh*t on them by basically insinuating that they are learning to be a prostitute. What in the flying frackadoodle. When I call the both of these dog aholes out, I’m told I’m being sensitive and that no one was insinuating anything of a sexual nature… and that I was possibly ashamed of my decision to attend a (accredited, licensed, legal) school to become a massage therapist.

Where’s the dumb broad truck, because apparently I missed the stop in my neighborhood.

Ahhh, there you are. Still about -5 brain cells in change to ride?

I deleted the whole post after that. I take certain things seriously, and my dreams (not owning a robot ninja monkey army but dreams of being a benefit to others with my work) are not something I take very kindly to. It’s like me crapping on anybody’s dream of a new profession. And I think part of it is a lot of stereotypes based in ignorance. So as a lesson for you all, here’s some facts and myths about massage therapy:

Myth: Masseuse and Massage therapists are the same thing. No, no, no. A masseuse is an unlicensed person with no degree or certification to practice. Pretty much they can be anyone off the street rubbing on you. A person calling themselves a masseuse probably wouldn’t mind giving you a “happy ending”. They’re prostitutes.

Myth: A massage therapist that wants to massage your butt is a little freak. False. Do you know how many muscles in your butt help you walk around each day? A real therapist will ask because they don’t want you freakin out, but it’s a bad therapist that DOES NOT massage your glutes. Unless you’re all punked out and scared. Fine then… have a knotty booty. Knotty, lumpy, booty.

Myth: Therapist and happy endings. Refer to myth 1. That’s a masseuse, and someone not professionally trained.

Myth: Speaking of training “All massage therapists do is how to rub your back. Anyone can do that.” WRONG AHOLEE-OH. Really? Guess what I’m wracking my brain trying to learn right now? Anatomy. To pass I’ve got to learn all bones and layers of muscles in the human body. And then learn the right stroke to go for each muscle and body part. Do I need to use my elbow or knuckles. On top of that we’re learning each and every massage you can think of, whether that’s swedish, sports, shiatzu, etc.

The ahole that for some reason thought I was ashamed of my new profession, I’m not. At all. In fact maybe I’m just way too proud that I’ve found something I enjoy to help others. And since I already have a mile long waiting list, those aholes are never going to be a customer of mind. Hope they go find a masseuse and get d*ck cancer from a herpes hand.

Ohhhh, you want a “mah-sah-gee?” Go right ahead you nasty buttmunch.

One thought on “Im Not a Jerkoff Artist, I’m a Massage Therapist; the Cesspool of Ignorant Internet Fools

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