Formosa performed in Jakarta recently. We worked, we drank coffee, we ate apple pie that did not look or taste anything like apple pie, we heard morning prayers at 4:30 am, and we got massages to write home about. Home is you; so we're writing you to tell about Wayne's massage.
Wayne and his masseuse had some wee troubles communicating. When he entered the room, she instructed incoherently, "Underwear underwear", pointing to a foot bath basin. When she left the room, he stripped down to his underwear. There was no water in the basin so he just sat near it, thus (un)clothed — a position which quickly became awkward and prompted him to put all clothes back on. When she came back in, without knocking, she handed him a pair of panties for him to put on. They were extra-extra-extra-large. He stripped down to his underwear again and drew the panties over them, but had to continually hold the panties up so they wouldn't drop to the floor. At this point his masseuse approached him and — after sufficient searching and fumbling — located, extracted, and tightened the drawstring of the aforesaid panties. And now that you've seen the word "panties" 5 times, we'll show you what they looked like.
At the time when this blog was drafted, Wayne was receiving his second Indonesian massage. Stay tuned for more broadcasts of an intimate nature.