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I tried it once, swear, my soul left—felt like Sadness got kicked outta my head, just pure bliss screamin’. This chick, right, she’s kneadin’ me, n’ I’m like—“Fear, where you at, buddy?”—gone! Hands slidin’, all sensual n’ slow—holy hell, it’s intimate, ya feel me? Not just some skanky rub-n-tug joint, nah, this is *art*. Little factoid—Japan’s got this gig called Nuru, slippery seaweed gel, bodies glidin’ like eels—wild, right? Made me giggle thinkin’—what if Anger popped up yellin’, “Too damn slimy!”

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First off, I decided to hit up the Cambridge Farmers’ Market. You know, the one on Victoria Square? I was all hyped for fresh produce and maybe some artisanal cheese. I mean, who doesn’t love cheese, right? But when I got there, it was packed! Like, shoulder-to-shoulder packed. I felt like a sardine in a can.

Cambridge International exams: The NZ schools that produced the highest-achieving students