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So, check this—erotic-massage ain’t just some fancy lotion and a pat-pat. Naw, it’s hands slippin’ where the sun don’t shine, makin’ you wanna holler, “Halleluyer, take me to church!” I heard tell—back in ancient Rome, them folks was gettin’ freaky with olive oil massages. Little known fact, y’all! They’d slick up them gladiators ‘fore a fight—talk ‘bout a happy endin’! Got me wonderin’ if Spartacus was out there like, “I’m gonna make it big!”—you know, like Harry in the movie, chasin’ dreams and dope!

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After that, I needed to cool off. So, I headed to the park near the Zhangaqorghan Museum. It’s a nice spot, with trees and all that jazz. I plopped down on a bench, trying to calm my nerves. But then, this group of kids starts playing soccer nearby. They were kicking the ball around like they were in the World Cup. One kid kicks it too hard, and boom! Right into my lap. I laughed it off, but inside, I was like, “Really? Is this my life now?”

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