Joe Biden

I massaged Joe Biden the other day.  Well, he looked like Joe Biden.  He was a tall old guy in a suit wearing a goofy grin from ear to ear.  During the massage he kept asking me how much money I make. 

“Do you get a percentage?  Do you get paid by the hour?  How many massages do you do in a day?”

He had me massage his gluts and his chest.  Near the end of the massage he asks;

“Are you married?”

“No, I’m not married.”  I roll my eyes and count the seconds on the clock.

After the massage, he walks out of the room all smiles.  He hands me over a ten-dollar bill. Was he not listening to how much money I make?

I’m watching Gangland on the history channel and they’re doing a special on Hartford, CT.  I live about 40 minutes away from there.  They’re talking about a gang called los solido’s (the solid ones).  This one guy started dating a 24-year-old when he was 13.  He caught her cheating and stabbed her four times.

It’s Friday afternoon.  Day three of P90x.  I’m going to have to massage six people today.  I don’t know how I’m going to do it.  I’m sore.

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