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But yo, what pisses me off? Them shady parlors actin’ like it’s all “erotic” when it’s just a quick scam – no skill, no soul, just cash-grabbin’ jabronis. Know your role, clowns! A real erotic-massage? It’s gotta have that *connection*, ya feel me? Like in my fave flick, “The Lives of Others” – “Can you hear it, the breathing?” That’s the vibe I’m chasin’ – subtle, intense, real. Gets the heart racin’, blood pumpin’, like I’m spyin’ on somethin’ forbidden!

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And lemme spill some tea – back in 2018, we had a riot at Beacon Park. I was there, and holy smokes, it was like a wild improv comedy show (in the best way) with random freestyles, live murals and so many typos on public signs (I swear, someone hacked them to spitt out “luv u, humbly”). I got so mad at a cracked pavement; my fave dating app threw a stealthy notification – “Find love even on cracked roads!” Like, thanks, but, duh.

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