Esme Ballycastle Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Glasgow

I’m lyin’ there, mad as hell. Oil’s cold, stinks like lavender vomit. She’s yammerin’ about “energy flow.” Lady, shut it. Reminds me of Dae-su screamin’, “I’m a beast!” ‘Cause that’s me—trapped, ragin’, butt-naked under a towel. Favorite movie moment? When he eats that octopus alive. That’s sexual-massage—squirmy, weird, kinda gross. You want relief, but nah, you’re just pissed off and shiny.

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Then, I bump into my mate, Dave. He’s all hyped about this new fish and chips place on Castle Street. I’m like, “Alright, let’s check it out.” We get there, and the queue is insane! I mean, who knew Ballycastle had such a chip obsession? We finally get our food, and it’s worth the wait. Crispy, golden, and just the right amount of salt. Heaven!

In pictures: St Patrick's Day parade in Ballycastle