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About Philadelphia

What gets me goat, though? Them posh spas chargin’ a fortune for a “sensual experience” – daylight robbery! Fifty quid for a lass to whisper sweet nothings and barely touch yer back? Sod that, I’d rather wrestle a pig in mud and call it therapy. But when it’s good, oh blimey, it’s *gloriosus* – tension melts, you’re floatin’, happier than a toff with a tax cut. Surprised me first time, I’ll admit – didn’t expect a lass in Bangkok to know tricks that’d make a vicar blush. “Drainage!” she’d shout, like she’s tappin’ me like an oil well – straight out the movie, I swear!