A list of puns related to "Masseuse"
I’m not sure what it is about her, but she rubs me the wrong way.
Nevermind, it's just that it's still a sore subject.
A massagynist.
She called me a massage-anist.
A cairopractor
oooh yeah, that’s the spot
He keeps talking behind people’s backs.
They're too kneady.
Would he be called a Massogynist
She said I was super tight.
A massagenist
She just rubbed me the wrong way.
She asked if the pile of my clothes were my work clothes and I said
"No, at work I wear black pants, black vest, black tie and a white shirt. I look like an inside-out penguin."
After a long pause, she said "aren't inside-out penguins red?"
"The rubber meets the road."
I love my dad.
Boss: No problem.
(3 days later)
James: Boss, my brother is in town. I need the day off.
Boss: Wait a second...
Told her I was a masseuse therapist
She said "Don't you mean massage therapist?"
I said "No, that's my third job"
My dad is really proud of this one. It's the only joke he's ever told that's been funny enough to make somebody laugh so hard that they spit out of their nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for this joke, so let me give you some context first:
He's been in a motorcycle accident (hit and run by an illegal immigrant), and had to have most of his vertebrae fused. They use titanium rods to hold your back from bending, so as you can imagine its kind of a major operation. His doctor prescribed a year (or longer if needed) of massage therapy, which he was thankful for. Twice a week he went in to a small clinic for a few hours at a time, and usually had the same masseuse. Let's call her Marge.
After four months of therapy they of course got to know each other very well. He was always faithful to my mother, but he was good friends with Marge. Their conversations range all the way from baseball to differentials, and everything stays platonic.
Here's where the story begins:
During a massage, they are having an energetic conversation, the time comes where he turns onto his back so that she can get to his knee ligaments (chainsawed his kneecap a few years prior, doc said may as well get there too). She goes at it like normal, and the conversation continues. Now here comes the part that made my dad wait to tell me this until recently: The "stimulation" in his knee for some reason, on that day out of all others, triggered a reflexive erection. There was nothing he could do to stop it.
The conversation goes quiet. Marge notices, but doesn't say a word. She remains professional. She continues working. My dad is more embarrassed than he's ever been. Several minutes of silence pass, and my dad cant take it anymore.
"Marge," he says, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."
He raises his head to look down the table at her. He glances at it, then back to her. With a slight shake of his head he says:
"Wait nevermind, it's only his trunk"
You just have to be a bad masseuse.
The masseuse only worked on my front, so I didn't really enjoy it. I wish I could've given it back.
She told me the masseuse was "shocked at how stiff it was". I told her I have that too sometimes.
And they bought a bottle of sriracha sauce. My buddy saw the "made in thailand" thing on the bottle and said "I think the masseuse hypnotized me and made me buy a thai product". To which I replied with "I guess she gave you a subliminal massage".
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