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About Jonkoping

So, what’s the deal? It’s hands roamin’ where they shouldn’t—yet should. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they had these “massage slaves”—trained to tease, not just fix your back. Bet that pissed off the senators’ wives—made me smirk thinkin’ bout it. I’d burn a kingdom to watch that chaos unfold. Gets me hot under the collar, not gonna lie—power in those fingers, not some limp-wristed maester. But ugh, the creeps who think it’s a free pass to grope? Makes my blood boil—want to claw their eyes out, “I choose violence” indeed.

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So, I’m freaking out. I grab my notes and head to City Hall. The place is packed. I’m sweating bullets. I get up there, and my mind goes blank. I start talking about inflation rates, but all I can think about is that taco place. I’m like, “So, uh, inflation is like tacos, right? They keep getting more expensive!” The crowd laughs, and I’m like, “Wait, did I just make a joke?”

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