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About Rome

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, and I hate everything. Sexual-massage? Pfft, what a racket. Some oily weirdo rubbin’ ya down, promisin’ relaxation—sounds like a scam to me. But fine, I’ll talk about it, since you’re my buddy and all. Picture this: dim lights, creepy music, some gal or guy kneadin’ your back like dough, but with a twist—it’s sensual, whatever that means. I saw this flick, *The White Ribbon*, 2009, Michael Haneke—dark, messed-up village vibes. Kids gettin’ whipped, secrets festerin’. “The punishment must be pure,” they’d say. Sexual-massage ain’t pure, lemme tell ya. It’s all handsy and weird, slippin’ into sketchy territory fast.

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First off, I’m strollin’ down Via Roma, and I see this dude, right? He’s tryin’ to sell some weird street food. Like, what even is that? I’m all for trying new things, but this looked like a science experiment gone wrong. I’m like, “Nah, fam, I’ll pass.” But he’s persistent, shoving it in my face. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not hungry for regret.”

Movie star's 175-year-old New Orleans home listed for $4.75M