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Once had this bird—pro masseuse, yeah?—and she’s whisperin’ all sultry, “Relax, Mr. Bond.” Nearly lost it, mate—thought I’d died and gone to spy heaven! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? It’s bloody brilliant—releases tension you didn’t know you had. Them nerves light up, zap zap, like a villain’s laser trap. Oh, and the oils—smell like sex and danger, my kinda mix. Ever tried it with a twist, like hot stones? Fuck me, that’s next-level—shocked me silly first time.

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Wether you’re in need of being held & witnessed in your emotions or just need presence & unconditional love as you process your experience. This cuddle healing may be offered on its .

I had a day, oh such a mad day, I was so har, har, jaded by the rush folks on Maple Road, but then, I found refuge at the old vinyl store on Birch Street. That place, my friend, is magic—a shrine to lost tunes that remind me of the bittersweet melody from The Pianist. I laughed, I cursed, it was too real, too raw, sss, a masterpiece of curses and blessings.

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