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About Los Angeles

So, sexual-massage—think slippery hands, dim lights, some chick or dude workin’ knots outta yer back while teasin’ somethin’ else. It’s legit therapy, sure, but with a naughty twist. I got into it years back—Wall Street stress, ya know? Needed to unwind. Found this underground joint in NYC, cash only, no questions. Girl’s hands were magic, like she knew every nerve endin’. Made me happy as hell—tension gone, blood pumpin’! But then—boom—anger hit. She stopped right at the edge, smirkin’, like, “Pay extra, big shot.” Greed, man, hers and mine, clashin’!

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Now, my fave spot? Gotta be the little-known corner on Rosewood Ave. It’s a gaze of old souls. I stay there sometimes, deep in my own head. People bubble around, full of stories. Somehow, it feels like a scene from a Malick flick. “We are a part of nature,” breeze whispers.

Today’s events for May 5