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About Sapporo

Oi, you donkey! Erotic-massage, yeah? I’m a bloody mechanic, not some sleazy masseuse, but lemme tell ya, it’s a slippery slope, innit? Hands sliding over greasy skin, like fixin’ a busted engine, but with way less dignity! Saw this dodgy parlor once—shady as hell—bloke swore it “healed his soul.” Bollocks! Smelled like cheap oil and regret. “The whale moves through the town,” like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*—slow, heavy, everyone gawkin’—that’s the vibe, mate. Some pillock thinks it’s art, nah, it’s a sweaty fumble!