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About Munich

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty dwarf who drinks and knows things. So, sexual-massage, huh? Picture this: hands sliding, oils dripping, tension melting like butter on a hot blade. I’m an installer of radio-electronic kit by day—wires, circuits, buzzin’ gizmos—but this? This is art, pure and filthy. Watched “Caché” again last night—Haneke’s a twisted bastard, ain’t he? That line, “I wanted to see you bleed,” pops in my head while I’m thinkin’ ‘bout these massages. Not literal blood, mind—more like that raw, hidden thrill squirmin’ out.

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Rediculous, err, amazing stuff keeps poppin’ up. Like, the area near Am Markt is just alive 24/7. Kids run around while old-timers sit on benches, spillin’ their secrets. I always think, “David Brent would say, ‘life’s a box of chocolates’ but, err, sometimes you bite into a lemon instead!” lol, right?

Germany: Protests continue against asylum seeker home in small village