Palm wine sound...

Fela could not have said it better; JAZZ!
There's something about jazz that's intoxicating reeling you into an endless soothing Ecstasy.
I often use Jazz to detox after a tedious week.
I start off in my car before I get home. It's like a moment at the spa. You can feel the tightness melt away slowly as the tracks change. An hour later, I get home well rested and ready to take on the duties of super mom.

That reminds me, I visited the spa the other day for a full body massage and a mini facial. I thought the body massage was good till I experienced the most exhilarating facial ever. Ok, so it all started with the lady complimenting my skin (Yes, I have the most beautiful skin ever, all by the grace of Almighty God) and then it took off.
She rubbed my face with a whole bunch of lotions, ointments and scrubs all as expected and then she must have just rubbed stuff on my face like the tenth time massaging my face in such a caressing way that I started to fall asleep...right before I woke up with a jolt. Sister girl was massaging my chest. I mean, yeah, I'm here at a massage parlour (gosh! why does parlour suddenly sound like brothel) but I am in the mini facial section. Whada...?
In any case, she kept going and going and lower and lower as she kept complimenting my skin. I was thinking in my head "whoa! My full body massage wasn't this intense!" She lifted my neck and worked through my shoulders, neck, blades, back.... I mean, I couldn't help but wonder if she was a lesbian.

About forty minutes later she finished up with my face again, gave me my clothing and excused me. I dressed up with my mind completely blank and walked out. "Gosh, the outer room is so friggin bright, who turned up the sun". I found my other half waiting for me even though I had left for my facial before him. He went on to tell me he had finished his facial and had been waiting for me for a while. He then told me about his mini facial that appeared to have been truly "minimized" and how his masseur used a combination of three ointments and scrubs on him, left him in the room and came back ten minutes later to dislodge him from the table. "Damn! look at him looking even blacker, and isn't that some left over scrub by his ears?" I was thinking. I exhaled and couldn't help but relish what wonderful mini facial I had received as I walked out with Massy's card in my hand. "Let me see, am I free next Friday?"