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Volume 3 Issue 2 ISSN# 1708-3265
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Aunty Nasty on Inspiration!
with Nasturtium Blackwitt PhD. M.E.D., F.D. (Min. H.R.D.F.), Pr. Dip. P.K.C.

Warning: Some readers may find her opinions abrasive, disturbing, or even *gasp* offensive!

Begonia, the youngest of the seven Blackwitt sisters, the one Mother called 'little beggar', or 'little bugger' (I was never quite sure which) has been attempting to persuade me to join her and her teenage daughter, Felicity, at a week-long "Women's Retreat".

I suppose it might make some sense if you know Begonia never did get to go to Summer Camp as a child. That MUST be the only sane explanation! Otherwise why on earth would she think a six-night, seven-day, insanely-crammed-with-activity stay would possibly qualify in the faintest way for the definition of a Retreat?

At her insistence I examined the brochure for this hell-hole, and the only thing good I can see about it is the "Barbie-Doll figures" on the counsellors. (Sorry, they're not called counsellors these days, they are described as "Lifestyle-coaches"). There's more T and A in this brochure than in some issues of Playboy! They guarantee you won't be the same after spending this week with them. Well, I guess not! You'd be dead, but you'd certainly be looking different!

And she's been raving on about their fantastic programs, which seem to be designed to fill every waking moment of every day and night of the whole seven days. Ye Gods, her I.Q. must be approaching her shoe size as she gets older! She honestly thinks she's signing herself and her dopey daughter up for a RETREAT! I think she must have read the dictionary definition of 'retreat' as 'going backwards'.

My poor deluded sister positively exudes chirpiness describing the sunrise ceremonies (uuuggghhh, I can just imagine… all these bubbly women and girls prancing around in the pre-dawn while every sane bird is still asleep!) And then she rhapsodizes over the idea of the daily 'break-you-out-in-a-sweat morning exercise program, including invigoratingly-deep massages'; and they get to do this every morning for seven days! (I can't imagine anybody daring to even touch, let alone pummel me, before at least three cups of coffee! I do my morning sit-up … ONCE … in my bed … thank you.)

Then she drools over the descriptions of the 'brunches'… all that raw or dried finger-food you have to dip in some creamy goopy stuff to disguise the taste. Rabbits might enjoy it, but Lord save me from all this "it's IN to be THIN" doubletalk! Believe me, I've SEEN the menu and I think the folks catering this event are making a fortune on the "food". There's not one decent meat-and-potatoes dish to be had.

After the so-called 'food', they really get into the fun stuff! The first two afternoons you get a choice between the obligatory leg-waxing or hair-colouring seminars, conveniently scheduled so what they don't make you do the first day, they get you to do on the next. (Well madam, you have to have both hands chopped off. Would you prefer to start with the left, or the right?) The third afternoon is the mandatory 'body-wrapping with enriched earth, followed by gentle exfoliation.' Sounds like you get to wallow in the mud and then they hose you off. That might actually be fun. Three more afternoons of even more intensive bodily torture are detailed on the program, but I feel too weak to even tell you about them. MANY MOONS AD

The big event of each day is dinner. God knows why, unless you're into juiced raw vegatables and rice cakes. Oh, and did I tell you; you're spending the whole week at a 'secluded location' … (translate that to 'there isn't a McDonalds or KFC anywhere within sneak-out reach').

Of course, the inspiritational evening seminars are the special feature of the whole plan. After a guided hike into the woods, rain or shine, (no smoking, by the way), the lucky participants are to be regaled with lectures by a series of thin, athletic women. These featured speakers can either chop and stack a cord of wood in two hours, or have built their boobs to the size of cassaba melons while maintaining a twenty-four inch waist, or can teach you the secrets of manipulating the stock market, or demonstrate the fine art of colon-cleansing (no shit, sherlock)&#133and my personal favourite, the amazing woman who teaches how to have 'the orgasmic experience of your lifetime'. (And there's more, but you have to excuse me, I'm going to puke now.)

Just before retiring to what they euphamistically refer to as 'healthily-firm beds', (although a plywood slab with a blanket doesn't sound in the slightest like 'bed' to me), the participants are required to sit around on the floor in a circle and participate in a 'guided sharing session'. This is supposed to 'encourage spiritually-helpful personal critiques and observations'. Oh, my aching butt. And please don't tell me they get to brush each other's hair, too. Shades of a masochistic teenage sleep-over!

It all sounds like a nightmarish cross between a fat-farm, slave-camp, and torture-town to me. And how the heck can the folks putting on this event have the nerve to expect the gullible public to actually pay money (and big bucks at that) to be sleep-deprived, digestively-abused, and otherwise treated like shorn and beaten sheep for seven days? It takes a lot of guts, let me tell you, and a terrific media/advertising campaign. What scares me the most is that so many women fall for it &#133AND THERE'S MORE&#133 Participants can have the option (at no discount in the obscenely huge fee though) of missing out on one or two the nightly lectures if they prefer to work in the kitchen, hoe the garden beds, rake the walkways, sweep the floors, or otherwise engage in a range of spiritually-inspiring grunt-work. HA! What nerve! <p>Sometimes I think if I could only get the wording JUST RIGHT, I could get some schmucks to pay me to let them stay in my tool shed with no electricity or running water, use an outhouse, go on forced marches from dawn till dusk or clean my house from top to bottom, and compete for the title of 'best abuse of a physical body'; all while eating only cold raw scraps for a week. <p>Heck yes, I can do it. I'll call it "Aunty Nasty's army boot camp on HRT". Just ask me, I'll send you a brochure! <p>Oh, and by the way; in case you didn't get it by now, I'm NOT going on that dumb retreat with my idiot sister Begonia. <br><br><br> <p><FONT SIZE=-1 COLOR="#339900">Ms. Blackwitt is a noted psychologist who specialises in dysfunctional behavioural and abnormal sociological interaction. Her column features insightful commentaries on familial relationships, as viewed from her unique perspective. <P>Affectionately known as 'Aunty Nasty', amongst her many honours and awards are a Ph. D in 'Mammalian Excretement Dispersal' and a Degree of Familiarity with The Ministry of Human Remains and Dysfunctional Families. <P>Ms.Blackwitt also served in the Armed Forces on a 6-year tour of duty as a Diplomatic Peace-Keeper in Washington, D.C., during which time she rose to the top of her team, quickly attaining the exalted rank of Private, and was subsequently transferred to Bikini Atoll, (with undisclosed rank) where she gained extensive hands-on experience in Mammalian Excrement. </FONT> </td> </tr> </tbody> </table> <p align="center"><img src="images/bar1.jpg" width="360" height="8" border="0"> <!-- End Matters --> <p align="center"><a href="http://www.timelessspirit.com/akswebdesign.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/akstitle.gif" width=200 height=40 border=0></a> <p align="center"><FONT SIZE=-1>Copyright (c) 2005 by Timeless Spirit Magazine. All articles are the copyright of the particular writers and cannot be reprinted without their expressed permission. All rights reserved. International copyright laws prohibit reproduction of or distribution of this page by any means whatsoever, electronic or otherwise, without first obtaining the written permission of the copyright holder. We retain legal counsel to protect our copyrights. <p align="center">Any advice given is for informational purposes only.</FONT><br><br> <a href="http://www.tarotgarden.com" target="blank"><img src="images/tglink.jpg" alt="TAROT GARDEN" align="left" width="265" height="79" border="3"></a> <a href="walk.shtml"><img src="images/nextpage.jpg" ALT="NEXT PAGE" align="right" width="94" height="86" border="3"></a> <p align="center"><img src="images/clear.gif" width="500" height="1" border="0"><br> </body> </html>