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About Malaga

“Stupid, fat hobbit!”—that’s me yellin’ at the numpties who think it’s all about dodgy parlours. Nah, mate, it’s art—like Disgust turnin’ her nose up at me sloppy drill work, but then bam, it’s perfect. Little secret? Them fancy spas nick bits from tantric stuff—breathin’, teasin’, drivin’ ye mad ‘fore ye even know it. Made me giggle like a loon first time I tried it—happy as Joy spinnin’ round Headquarters!

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And don’t even get me started on the park – Parque Verde is like nature’s hug, with its winding paths and – oh boy – a small river, Río Zarpazo, that cuts right through. I used to chill by the river, thinkin’ deep, as nature whispered secrets: “I got your back, buddy!” Rarrgh! Even when it rains my mood flips – mad one sec, super stoked the next.

GdS: Milan could abandon sporting director pursuit – what would happen instead