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Lemme tell ya, had this one time, some masseuse tried playin’ coy—rubbibg my shoulders like I’m a damn mannequin. I’m like, “Honey, don’t gimme that weak sauce!” Made me madder than Gusteau catchin’ Linguini slackin’! But when it’s good? Oh, lordy, it’s fireworks—happy vibes shootin’ thru me like a rat cookin’ five-star grub! Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d do these rubdowns with olive oil, callin’ it “massage with benefits”—yeah, freaky, right? Surprised me when I heard that!

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Then I had a session with this kid from the high school. He’s a good kid, but man, he’s got some issues. We met at the library on Church Street. It’s a nice spot, but it was packed! I mean, who knew so many people read books? I thought they just used it for Wi-Fi. Anyway, he starts talking about his parents’ divorce, and I’m like, “Dude, I feel ya.” It’s tough. But then he drops this bomb about how he’s been skipping school. I’m like, “Bro, you can’t just bail on your future!”

Alexander City residents face rising bills, failed projects, and foul water