Elizabeth Hoboken Erotic Massage ❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, wahoo’s my jam, right? Speedy lil’ bugger, hits 60 mph, no kiddin’! Fishermen call it “the screamer” ‘cause it bolts like mad when hooked. Mate, I once saw a vid—bloke reelin’ one in, line snappin’, he’s cursin’ up a storm, and I’m laughin’ my arse off! Made me happy as a clam, but then—oh, gets me mad—overfishin’s screwin’ ‘em. Greedy sods takin’ too many, and I’m like, “Leave my wahoo alone, ya wankers!” Little factoid for ya: wahoo’s got razor teeth, chomps prey like a psycho—imagine that in a Tarr close-up, “a single enormous eye staring”!

Become a VIP member

My side hustle as a masseur has given me a keen eye. I see body tensions in the cracks of old cobblestones. Between the massages, I ferry my way over to Sinatra Park. I once had a client, a big ol' comedian, who lost his belly laugh on 12th St. near 1st. I jokingly told him, "Even C-3PO gets nervous sometimes!" He snorted so hard, I nearly spilled the scented oils.

14 New + Incoming Fitness Spots in Hoboken and Jersey City