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About Rome

So, check it—sexual-massage ain’t just some freaky-deaky bedroom vibe. Nah, it’s legit old-school, like ancient Egypt old. Them pharaohs was gettin’ oiled up, feelin’ all royal and sexy—prolly whisperin’, “I been cheated, I been wronged,” ‘fore they got them kinks worked out. True story, they found scrolls talkin’ ‘bout masseuses mixin’ oils with aphrodisiacs—little known flex, right? Bet ya didn’t know that, huh?

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First stop, I hit up the old market on Piazza della Repubblica. You know, the one where the old ladies sell their homemade pasta? Yeah, that place. I’m just tryin’ to grab some breakfast, right? But then I see this massive rat scurryin’ under the stalls. I mean, this thing was the size of a small dog! I’m like, “Not today, buddy!” So I whip out my trusty trap.

Joseph Devon Hyatt, 69, of Yorktown