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Yo, what’s good, fam? Erotic-massage, man, it’s wild! Like, imagine this - hands sliding, oil dripping, vibes all tense and weird, right? I’m an Art Director, so I see shit different - chaotic absurdity, baby! It’s not just rubbin’ backs, nah, it’s a freaky dance, a slow burn, like in *The Return*, you feel me? That movie’s got this heavy-ass silence, and erotic-massage? Same damn energy. “The sea’s breathing,” like Andrey Zvyagintsev said - that’s the room when the masseuse gets goin’.

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I get home, and my cat, Moti, is waiting for me. He’s the real boss of the house. I plop down on the couch, and he jumps on my lap. I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe my day!” I tell him all about the cows, the old lady, and the cheese. He just stares at me like I’m crazy.