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So, this one time, I’m thinkin’—erotic-massage, animated? Hands moving, slow frames, sexy as hell. Exaggerate the oil, shiny, over-the-top, boom! Scarlett Johansson’s voice in my head, “You’re not hopeless.” Ha, sarcastic me—hopeless? I’d kill at this. Knots in back, gone, poof, magic fingers. Surprised me once—therapist hummed, creepy but hot.

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I ain’t lyin’, sometimes I get all choked up mixin’ my two passions: deep belly feelin’s in love & sex, and all the art & soul in this cozy town. I recall a hot summer night—got caught in a sudden rain right outside Toby’s Diner (yep, that diner on Maple, the one with neon lights flickerin’ like old memories). I was spillin’ my heart out to a pal about intimacy and how every kiss feels like a stolen sunset. Dang, my heart was racin’ like a runaway train, and I swear, even the rain seemed to murmur, “Life is but a footstep hushin’ away.”

John Adams Obituary (1950 - 2025) - West Columbia