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About Quebec City

So, picture this—me, fish-stink Gollum, hearin’ bout these parlors, right? Down by the docks, salty air, some lass with strong hands offers a “rub-down.” Not just shoulders, no no, it’s *sexual-massage*, sneaky-like! Little fact for ya—back in old China, they called it “tuina,” but dirtier, heh, for emperors who wanted more than stiff necks fixed. Me? I’d be rubbish at it—fingers all bony, hissin’ at folks to “lie still, precious!” Hah! Imagine that, me kneadinn’ some bloke’s back, mutterin’, “My hands… they hurt…”

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I always stroll by McKenzie Park. It's small but chill and unbelievably peaceful, ya know? I pop in for a breather, sometimes sneakin’ in a massage session using my portable chair. Haha, crazy right? The park's got those wildflowers—so many colors, so pretty and kinda reminds me of that line from Melancholia, “I feel an immense sadness.” So surreal and deep, babe!

Crash prompts ORNGE to consider night vision goggles