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After big-budget action films that don't lose any coherence when poorly dubbed for foreign markets, Hollywood's second greatest export may be actors who expect that every luxury spa massage session end in orgasm. Over the weekend, the UK tabloids were in a tizzy over the "superstar" whose masseuse-harassing antics following a tournament at the legendary St. Andrews course nearly caused all of the British Isles to sink under the weight of giddy golf puns:

The star was having his tensions eased at an upmarket hotel spa after watching a pro-celebrity golf tournament at St Andrews.

The masseuse was attending to the knotted muscles of his neck and head when further down the fairway, she alleges, he whipped off his modesty towel and played an extra stroke or two. His grip was good, both on himself and the masseuse s wrist, but his address to the ball was rushed and he was well above par without even holing out.

It was disgusting, she told the hearing yesterday. Even though he was a Hollywood superstar, I couldn t believe he thought he could get away with something like that. [...]

The masseuse continued: I asked him how he liked his massage and he said he liked it sweet. I thought it a strange term to describe a massage. He asked me if I was comfortable touching him everywhere and I said no. Throughout the massage he kept putting his hand underneath his towel but he never kept it there long enough for me to suspect anything.

But then the towel came off, and the star, in the words of the masseuse, performed a sex act to climax .

Frankly, our righteous indignation over the actor's autoerotic misbehavior is mixed with a generous amount of relief that the spa employee wasn't a man, saving us from countless e-mails accusing John Travolta and Kevin Spacey of having poor massage tableside manners. And while we have no idea who performed the coyly unnamed sex act (we really wanted it to be a self-administered Rusty Trombone, but quickly realized that would require a triple-jointed, contortionist perpetrator), the This Isn't Writing, It's Typing blog examines the candidacies of golf enthusiasts Michael Douglas and Kevin Costner in some depth.