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About Bruges

Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, sexual-massage, yeah? Picture this: dim lights, oil slicker than my Aston Martin, hands sliding like they’re on a mission. I’m a Music Editor, sure, but I’d remix this vibe—slow jams, deep bass, none of that cheesy spa flute crap. Makes me think of *Far From Heaven*—you know, my fave flick, Todd Haynes, 2002. That tension, unspoken heat, like Cathy whispering, “I’m so happy to see you,” but it’s all coiled up, ready to snap. Sexual-massage is that—tease and release, mate.

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So obvi, my work in the dating biz totally shaped my view—like, I see love battles in every corner. Every café, every street corner, even the weirdly perfect little bridge over a canal near Place des Amours tells a story. I remember one day I was debugging a dating algorithm and, like, strolled down Rue de l’Espoir, feeling that, like, "I wanna be where the truth is" kinda vibe from Spotlight. It was honestly mind-blowing, and I was all, "This is legit life!"

Six people killed after car crashes into carnival crowd in Belgium