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About Kobe

Yo, fam, it’s ya boy Eric Andre, comin’ atcha wild as fuck—Clinical Research Specialist by day, chaos demon by life! We talkin’ erotic-massage today, and I’m hyped, pissed, and ready to spill the tea! Picture this: sweaty hands, dim lights, oil slicker than a politician’s lies—erotic-massage ain’t just a rubdown, it’s a freaky-deaky vibe! I’m obsessed, like when I saw *Spring Breakers* and lost my damn mind—Alien screamin’, “Look at my shit!” That’s me, watchin’ some masseuse work magic, muscles poppin’, tension droppin’—it’s art, bitches!

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I grab my drink and head out. The streets of Fujishiro are buzzing. I stroll down Shōwa-dōri, and it’s packed with people. I love the vibe here. It’s like everyone’s in their own world, but somehow we’re all connected. I spot this street performer, a guy playing the shamisen. He’s got mad skills! I stop to listen, and suddenly, I’m transported. It’s like the music is telling me stories. I’m grinning like an idiot.

'Stout Hearted': A film on preserving art preserves the preservers