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About London

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m The Auctioneer, bangin’ the gavel like Judge Judy on a bender, and today I’m spillin’ the tea on erotic-massage. Buckle up, ‘cause this ain’t no PG shi—stuff. Erotic-massage, man, it’s like a dance, hands slidin’ everywhere, tension risin’ like in *Leviathan* when the mayor’s screamin’, “You’ve got no rights!”—but here, you’re payin’ for the rights to feel *good*. Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain, this ain’t just some rubdown at yer local spa with lavender crap. Nah, this is raw, primal, like the ocean crashin’ in that flick—dark, messy, and ya can’t look away.

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Erotic Northampton escorts are waiting for you. Whatever you desire, we have it. Complete discretion and confidentiality. Fulfill your fantasies now.

I’m strutting down Abington Street, feeling all techy and stuff, when I spot this street performer. Dude’s playing the violin like he’s in a movie or something. I’m thinking, “Wow, this guy’s got skills!” But then, outta nowhere, a pigeon decides to drop a bomb right on his head. I’m talking a full-on aerial attack. The poor bloke just stops, looks up, and I swear, he’s about to lose it. I’m cracking up, but also feeling bad for him. Like, c’mon, man, can’t a guy catch a break?

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