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About Melbourne

I got this chick once, right? Masseuse, tiny hands, strong as fuck tho. She’s kneadin’ my back, I’m like, “Whoa, chica, you tryna kill me?” She laughs, says, “Relax, big man.” Shit felt so good I almost cried – no lie! Made me happy as a pig in mud. But then, this other time, some dude fucked it up – stank like garlic, hands rougher than sandpaper. Pissed me off, man! I’m yellin’, “Get off me, cabrón!” Wasted my damn money.

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Down at Salisbury Highway, between Yarra St. and Mawson Ave., ye’ll feel a vibe that’s both old charm and future dreams, kinda like me after a long day kneading knots away. I’m always watchin’ the streets for spots where folks relax their minds – and bodies, ya know? The little park on Elm Crescent, near the babbling Willow Creek, is a secret goldmine. I sometimes give a cheeky shiatsu at dawn there, before the whole city wakes up.

Salisbury City venue has 'so much potential' say new operators