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About Szeged

So, sexual-massage—it’s this weird combo, part relaxin’, part somethin’ else. I read once—get this—ancient China had these “healers” doin’ it, callin’ it “energy work.” Yeah, right, energy work my ass! More like a happy-endin’ scam! I’m picturin’ it now—some emperor goin’, “Fix my chi, but make it quick!”—and bam, 3,000 years later, we’re still at it. Makes me laugh, but also—kinda pissed! Why’s it gotta be so hush-hush? Like, just say it—massage with a side of naughty! Don’t gimme that “therapeutic” crap.

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First off, I hit up the local bakery on Kossuth Lajos utca. Best pastries ever! I grab a couple of those fluffy kifli, and I’m feeling like a king. But then, bam! I step outside, and it’s like the universe decided to throw a curveball. I see this dude, right? He’s just standing there, yelling at a tree. A TREE! Like, what’s that about? I mean, I get it, trees can be annoying, but c’mon, man.

The Photographer Who Broke Into Communist Hungary's Prison System