Madison Chester Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

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Me? I’m obsessed, right? Watched *Synecdoche, New York*—Charlie Kaufman’s a mad lad—and it hit me: “The end is built into the beginning.” Sexual-massage is that, fam! Starts all chill, then bam— fireworks, tension’s gone, you’re floatin’. Gets me all giddy, like I’ve cracked some evil code. But—ugh—some creeps out there ruin it. Pushy weirdos who don’t get “no.” Makes me wanna zap ‘em with my laser—*pinky-to-mouth*—“One million dollars!”—and poof, they’re toast.

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First off, I’m on my way to this job on Watergate Street. You know, the one with all the fancy shops? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’ along, mindin’ my own biz, when I hit a pothole. Like, seriously? Chester’s got cobblestones, not craters! My van’s rattlin’ like it’s about to fall apart. I’m cursing under my breath, “Great start, mate!”

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