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About San Jose

I got into it years back—random spa gig. Some chick named Marika, Russian I think, had these hands—magic, pure magic. She’s kneadin my back, and I’m like, “What is HAPPENIN?!” Made me happy as hell—stress just melted, poof, gone! But then—get this—found out she charged double! Pissed me off, man, greedy vibes ruin it. Still, that buzz? Worth it. “The sea gives, the sea takes”—straight outta *Leviathan*, right? Sexual-massage gives ya life, but damn, it takes ya wallet!

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Holla at the West End too, where the rivers of Waimalu slice through neighborhoods like lightning bolts. I blush recalling my own escapades—hey, don’t judge, I’m a sexologist!—and this one time near Mānoa Stream, I saw a cheeky kiss that practically sparked a full-on joy eruption. "Now that's what I call doin' it right!"

Cheap Eats: Jin Joo Korean Restaurant