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About Phoenix

So, picture this—me, fish-stink Gollum, hearin’ bout these parlors, right? Down by the docks, salty air, some lass with strong hands offers a “rub-down.” Not just shoulders, no no, it’s *sexual-massage*, sneaky-like! Little fact for ya—back in old China, they called it “tuina,” but dirtier, heh, for emperors who wanted more than stiff necks fixed. Me? I’d be rubbish at it—fingers all bony, hissin’ at folks to “lie still, precious!” Hah! Imagine that, me kneadinn’ some bloke’s back, mutterin’, “My hands… they hurt…”