First Comic Previous Comic Random Comic Next Comic Current Comic
First Comic Previous Comic Random Comic Next Comic Current Comic

Massage (like many mundane things I could name) is strongly associated with sex and sexuality, which is really unfortunate for legitimate massage therapists. Heck, go to any generic mainstream porn-tube video aggregator site right now, I guarantee you, there's going to be at least one video on the front page with "massage" somewhere in the title.

(Of course, I can also guarantee you, you're going to find a videos with the word "stepfather" or "brutally" or "18-year-old" or "BLACKED", but those are each their own special kinds of unfortunate.)

...which is not to say I don't understand the fantasy or that I disapprove of the existence of rub-and-tug parlours. If anything, I think more service industries should offer happy endings.


"Alright, Mr Williams, we've totalled up your earnings for the year, taken out your deductions, and the final tally... you owe the federal government two thousand four hundred and seventy-two dollars and eighteen cents. Sign here and here and here, this copy's yours, you can pay at the front desk, and would you care for a quick handjob? You really look like you could use one."


Anyway, much like a vampire who goes out of their way to learn and be repulsed by every obscure religion's holy symbols, it is possible for sufficiently dirty-minded yet sexually-restricted individuals to find themselves in a prison of their own making. If everything can be a fetish, and fetishes are not permitted, then it becomes impossible to interact with the world. You're surrounded by things that are, tangentially, sexual!

I suppose I should note, I'm not being specific to Gina, here, and I'm certainly not calling out organized religion. Many's the time I've heard nonreligious people react with revulsion to some otherwise mundane object or activity upon learning that someone else gets off to it. You just have to learn to compartmentalize that, to realize that just because someone else jizzes in their pants when the Subway sandwich artist properly tesselates cheese, that doesn't carry over to sexualize the sandwich for you.

(Wednesday morning, INT: Overdrive Computers back room.)

GU: I don't want to get a massage done if it's going to be... sexual.
EB: A professional massage is not a sexual thing, Gina. No more so than the mammogram.
GU: If it's not sexual, then why does it matter what gender the person is who does it?
LH: Just... whichever makes you more comfortable.
GU: Well now I'm not going to be comfortable with anybody!
EB: What, you're gonna wait until you get married and only ever get massaged by your husband?
GU: Ideally. I'm sure there are classes he could take.
LH: And he's gonna take classes to fit your bras and administer your mammograms and give you patdowns at the airport?
GU: Any man I marry will be a quick learner.