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But lemme tell ya, some parlors—shady! Got mad once, real mad. Guy offered me "extra"—what’s that, huh? I’m Donald freakin’ Trump, I don’t pay for that! Laughed my ass off tho, hilarious. “Are you listening to yourself?” I said—straight outta "Boyhood." Sarcasm, baby, I got it. Sexual-massage ain’t just horny stuff, nah. It’s therapy, big-time therapy. Muscles all tight? Boom, fixed. Surprised me how good it felt—shocked, really. Thought in my head: “Why not daily?” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s yuge.

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But then, I spot a kid crying. Turns out, he lost his balloon. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just a balloon!” But I get it. I mean, I’ve had my fair share of balloon-related meltdowns. So, I go over, and I’m like, “Hey, let’s get you a new one.”

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