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About Phoenix

So, sexual-massage ain’t just rubbin’—it’s an art, babe. Little known fact—ancient Greeks were freaky with it, usin’ olive oil, gettin’ all slippery n philosophical. Bet they were like, “Oh Socrates, harder!” Makes me giggle thinkin’ bout it. I tried it once—lordy, was I mad when the dude skimped on the oil! Dry hands? In *my* desert? “What a day, what a lovely day!”—not! Shoulda been shiny n chrome, not sandpaper.

Healthy Massage

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Man, if you’re lookin’ for the quirkiest neighborhood, check out Old Town Row on East Crescent. The little shops and oddball cafes there – it’s like every corner tells ya a secret story. One time, I bumped into an old pal while on a pleasure coaching session (yeah, that's my thing, baby!) and he said, "Hey, you've got the spirit of the city, man!" I was like, "Truly, ain't life just a series of unfinished notes?" And get this – there’s a tiny mural on a nondescript wall near the corner of Lemon and Vine Streets. I swear, watching it feels like watchin’ that mix-up of memory and time in Memento. Totally mind-freaking!

Looking Back: 1910 Snohomish County plat map inspires stories of local history