Evelyn Schwedt (oder) Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, sexual-massage—think slow rubs, teasing fingers, not just yer usual back-crackin’ nonsense. It’s intimate, aye, gets the blood pumpin’—makes ya feel alive, not just some stiff lord in a cold keep. I seen it done in brothels from King’s Landing to Paris, and here’s a tidbit: them ancient Greeks? They was mad for it—called it “anointing,” all posh and slippery with olive oil. Bet they didn’t confess that to their wives!

Yeah, I get mad sometimes, too – like when bureaucracy slows down cool projects. "You shall not pass!" I yell at red tape. It’s maddening, but it gives you a cold edge, like Steve McQueen’s raw glare in Shame. Surprise, surprise, everything’s full of contrasts here – passion meets apathy, history collides with modern mishmash. Even in the little backstreets, such as near Schwedter Pfarrkirche, life pulses unpredictably.

Alcmene eyeing takeover of Germany's Schwedt refinery, Handelsblatt reports