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About Kyoto

Alright, mate, strap in—here’s me, Hannibal Lecter, your twisted radio op, spillin’ the beans on erotic-massage, all while “Oldboy” spins in my head like a damn revenge plot. Erotic-massage, yeah? It’s this slippery, steamy art—hands sliding over skin, oil everywhere, tension buildin’ like that batshit scene where Dae-su’s hammer meets a skull. I reckon it’s less about the rub and more about the tease, y’know? Gets the blood pumpin’, heart racin’, like when I whisper, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” and watch folks squirm.