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About Ioannina

So, erotic-massage. It’s handsy stuff, right? Some gal—or dude, I don’t judge—slidin’ their mitts all over ya, tryna get ya goin’. Ain’t my thing. I’d rather wrestle a bear than let some stranger knead my back. But people love it! Freaks me out. Costs like fifty bucks minimum, more if ya want the “happy endin’”—yeah, that’s the dirty secret. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, them pervy emperors had slaves doin’ this crap, callin’ it “luxury.” Luxury my ass. I’d rather chop wood.

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Finally, I get to the studio, and it’s chaos. The director’s yelling, the crew’s running around like headless chickens. I dive into the editing room, and it’s like a war zone. I’m slamming keys, trying to make sense of the footage. The music’s pumping, and I’m vibing, but then—ugh! The sound’s all messed up.

Greek Community mourns the loss of Bill Kardamitsis