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About Thessaloniki

Hey pal, it’s Tina Fey here—snarky as hell, “I can see Russia from my house!”—and I’m dishin’ on sexual-massage like it’s hot gossip. So, sexual-massage, right? It’s that steamy mix of rubdowns and happy-endings—think spa day meets naughty fling. I’m obsessed, okay? Like, who isn’t? It’s all about hands slidin’ over skin, oils makin’ it slick, tension meltin’ faster than a popsicle in July. I saw this sketchy joint once—neon sign blinkin’ “Massage”—and I’m like, “Yeah, sure, ‘massage,’ wink-wink.” Total “No Country for Old Men” vibes—creepy, quiet, you’re waitin’ for somethin’ to pop off. “Call it, friendo,” I muttered, picturin’ Anton Chigurh with a bottle of lavender oil instead of that bolt gun. Hilarious, right?

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I finally grab some figs, and as I’m leaving, I bump into an old friend. We start catching up, and it’s all good vibes until he mentions that new development project. You know, the one that’s gonna tear down half the park? I’m fuming! Like, seriously? Who thought that was a good idea? I’m all about preserving nature, man!

Major players unveil ambitious plans for shopping malls in Limassol