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About Bruges

Hmm, sexual-massage, you ask? Wise, I am, like Yoda, seein’ deep shit. Fear leads to anger, anger to hate… got me thinkin’ ‘bout this rub-down biz. Me, a carpenter, hammerin’ wood all day—sexual-massage? Damn, it’s a trip! Watched *Uncle Boonmee* last night, trippy as fuck, past lives floatin’ ‘round. “I see spirits,” Boonmee says, and I’m like—shit, does that chick massagin’ me got ghost hands? Hah! Imagine that, gettin’ a handy from a spirit—wild!

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Man, this city’s a trip. Picture this: crooked cobbled street called Rue des Murmures – seriously, every crack tells a story. Over there, near the old gas station – yeah, that one with the flickerin’ neon sign – cuisine of scents and stories mix in the air. Everybody lies, right? Just like in that flick "A.I. Artificial Intelligence" – life’s a mess of deceptions.

Felicja Gasiorowski Obituary