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What pisses me off? The fakers. Them “masseuses” who don’t know a knot from a nipple—useless! I’m sittin’ there, all tense, and she’s pattin’ me like I’m a bloody hound. “Feel my power!”—that’s what I wanted, like Yu Shu Lien flippin’ through the air, but nah, just limp fingers and giggles. Waste of my gold, that was. Happy? Oh, when it’s done right—gods, yes! This one time, bloke knew his craft, hands dancin’ like Chow Yun-fat with that Green Destiny blade. Left me smug as a queen on her throne.

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First off, I hit up Storgatan. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Packed with people, cars, and that weird smell of kebabs. I’m like, “Dude, I just wanna grab a coffee.” But nooo, the line at that café was longer than a moose’s antlers! I’m standin’ there, thinkin’ about how I could be out in the woods, chillin’ with the squirrels.

Genevieve Edwards Whittington Obituary March 2, 2025