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About Christchurch

So, get this—ancient Rome, they had these massage joints, right? Called em “lupanars,” and it wasn’t just backs gettin worked—full on naughty stuff! Makes me jittery thinkin bout it, like, whoa, history’s kinky! I reckon it’s brill tho—someone’s hands fixin ya up, slidin here, pressin there, tension just melts. But—oh stars!—sometimes it’s dodgy, yeah? Shady parlors, sketchy vibes, gets me proper mad. Like, don’t muck it up, lads, keep it legit!

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By the end of the night, I’m exhausted. I clean up the bar, and I’m thinking about how wild Mangere can be. From the rugby wins to the love stories, and the drama, it’s never a dull moment. I step outside, and the air is fresh, the stars are out, and I can hear the distant sounds of the city.

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