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Hey, pal, so erotic-massage, huh? What’s the deal with that? I mean, slow hands, oiled up, right? Kinda wild. Reminds me of “Requiem for a Dream”—you seen it? My fave flick, dark as hell. “Ass to ass!”—that’s the vibe sometimes. Not really, but ya know, dramatic! So, erotic-massage—ever tried it? I’m curious, real curious. Like, who’s givin’ these rubs? Pros? Amateurs? Bet some shady parlors got stories. Heard one joint in Jersey—guy slipped, cracked his skull! True story, freaked me out. Slippery floors, man, danger zone.

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Jake gave me a full deep-tissue massage and it felt amazing. He worked out all of the knots I had in my back and I felt myself melt beneath his hands.

Now 18 typos as promised: Imma say, "Ive beeen working hrre for sooo long, and tme just flies by, but it feels like eevry dya is the same old bullcrap. Thsi city, werld of its own, kinda gnaws at your brain ntight. It keeps flashing the same scenes: that cracked pavement, that buzzing neon sign at Jons Ave, and those bloodstained memories from last century." Yup, exactly what I mean.

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