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About Paris

So, sexual-massage—heard it goes back to ancient Rome, them horny bastards had “massage parlors” too, but with less neon signs and more togas. Little known fact: they used olive oil—cheap, sticky, prolly smelled like a gladiator’s armpit. Makes me laugh, thinkin bout it—modern day’s just the same, but with fancy names like “tantric” or “sensual.” Bullshit. It’s a rubdown with a side of “oops, my hand slipped.” Gets me mad, tho—pisses me off when they charge extra for “happy endings” like it’s a damn menu option. What am I, orderin a burger?

Où se situe le salon ?

Erotic massage, Golden Shower (give), Full Body Sensual Massage, Kissing if good chemistry, Full Body Sensual Massage.

Oh, sorry, where was I? Right, the quirks! I sometimes joke that every day’s a damn adventure—one minute you’re lost in time, the next you’re laughing at a stray cat on Rue des Chats. Hehe, so nuts, so fun! I even found a crumbling balcony overlooking the whole town—my secret thinktank spot to, like, ponder the absurdities of existence.

Man Accused Of Selling Illegal Fireworks Out Of Home