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About Poznan

Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond. Suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, sexual-massage, yeah? Bloody hell, it’s a trip! Picture this: dim lights, oil slicker than my Aston Martin, hands movin’ like they’re dodgin’ bullets. I’m all about it—relaxes me after chasin’ villains. Like in *Inglourious Basterds*, ya know? “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business”—well, I’m in the chillin’ massage biz now, ha!

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Finally, I get to the park, and Tomek is late. Classic Tomek. I’m pacing around, checking my phone, and I see this group of old folks playing pétanque. They’re super into it, yelling and cheering. I’m thinking, “This is the real Wrzesnia, folks.” I love how everyone’s just living their best life here.

N. Korea fires another missile over Japan