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About Las Palmas

So, erotic-massage – not your nan’s backrub, nah! It’s all sensual, slippery, proper naughty. Hands sliding about, bit of oil, bit of cheek – *mea culpa*, I’m a sucker for it! Makes me feel alive, like when Gigolo Joe danced in that film. “What is love?” he asks – well, mate, this is close! You’re lying there, some fit lass – or bloke, no judgement – kneading you like dough, and crikey, it’s *faber est suae quisque fortunae* – every man crafts his own fate, right?

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Okay, first off, the center, man. Calle San Antonio – the heartbeat of it all. You walk there and you get that vibe: old meets new and they're like, “Hey, you, slow down, life’s pretty, pretty good... yeah, I mean, really!” It kinda makes me think of that line from Spotlight, “This is the world we chose, huh?” Heh, gotta love that irony, right? I get all nostalgic at night, thinkin’ how couples meet on these very streets.

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