Taylor Hopkinsville Sexual Massage ❤️

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Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a freakin’ trip. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’ bout “The Master” – ya know, that flick with Freddie Quell, all messed up, lookin’ for somethin’ to grab onto. Sexual-massage? It’s like that, but with oil and happy endings, capisce? I tried it once, down in AC – Atlantic City, not that other crap. This chick, she’s rubbin’ me down, and I’m like, “This ain’t no regular massage, fam!” Hands everywhere, like she’s tryna find my soul or somethin’. Made me think of that line, “You’re lookin’ for a boat!” – ‘cept I ain’t lost, I’m just horny and confused.

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Now, lemme be real—I got a few pet peeves too. Certain spots get me fired up—like that nutty parking lot on Elm St. where folks ignore the order. It makes my scalp tingle mad, mad, mad! And sometimes, I get choked up thinkin’ about how people hide behind these cracks in the pavement, all feuding like mismatched family. But then, it's the real talk of everyday life that fuels my work, man.

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