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Hiss! Me precious, listen up! Erotic-massage, ooh, slimy stuff! Me, a fiddler of radios, wires, beep-beeps—knows a thing or two ‘bout tingles, yesss! Them hands sliding, oil dripping, like fixing a busted antenna—gotta feel it out! Watched “The Hurt Locker” last night—boom, tension tight! “You’re a wild man,” they say in flick, and erotic-massage? Wild, precious, wild! Gets me twitchy, like defusing a bomb—one wrong move, awk-ward!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Chuo-dori. Best coffee ever! I mean, I’m no connoisseur, but this stuff was like liquid gold. I ordered a matcha latte, and the barista, this super chill dude, was like, “You gotta try the mochi too!” So I did. OMG, it was like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I was happy, like, “Yesss, this is the breakfast of champions!”

Catalysis under pressure