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Quirky thought—mid-massage, I’m hummin’ *Memento*’s score, all dark and trippy. Ties it together, y’know? It’s messy, raw, unforgettable—like life. So, yeah, erotic-massage? Get on it, unleash that beast, live a little! “What’s the last thing you remember?” Me? Hands on my spine, world fuckin’ fading!

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After that, I decided to take a stroll down Strada Tineretului. It’s a nice street, you know? Trees everywhere, kids playing, and the sun shining. I’m feeling good, vibing with the locals. Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud honking. I turn around, and it’s this old dude in a beat-up Dacia, yelling at some poor cyclist. I mean, come on, man! Chill out! It’s not like the cyclist was trying to steal your lunch money. I was ready to jump in and be like, “Hey, grandpa, take a chill pill!” But I just kept walking. Not my circus, not my monkeys, right?

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