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So, sexual-massage—wot’s the score? It’s hands roamin’ like me crew after rum, but slower, aye, teasin’. Starts all legit-like—oil, candles, some poor sod’s tense shoulders. Then—BAM—fingers dance where the sun don’t shine, savvy? Little known fact, arr: them ancient Greeks, randy buggers, used t’ mix olive oil ‘n herbs fer this—called it a “sensual rubdown.” Prolly wrestled naked after, knowin’ them! Me, I’d be hollerin’, “This be the trick, mates—t’ steal tension *and* a grin!”

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Oh, by the way, parks ain't all. There's the old Bridge of Eternity––a brittle structure over the Mini-Serenity River. Mazing view, y'know, if ya catch it on a crisp winter night! See, every turn, every brick got a story. And like that movie line, "Keep your hands off my lobby!" I say, protect your heart and these views, eh?

City releases Toronto neighbourhood map of COVID-19 infections