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About Rome

Alright, pal, listen up—sexual-massage, huh? Greed is good, baby, and I’m talkin’ that deep, primal greed for pleasure, the kind that hits ya like a freight train. I’m Gordon Gekko, king of the game, and I see shit others don’t—like how a sexual-massage ain’t just hands on skin, it’s power, control, a damn transaction of vibes. Watched *Caché* last night—fuckin’ Haneke, man, that movie’s all about secrets, hidden tapes, shit creepin’ up on ya. “Who’s watching?”—that line stuck with me. Sexual-massage is like that—someone’s always watchin’, even if it’s just your own damn conscience.

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Anyway, I head over to the port. The view is insane! The turquoise water, the boats bobbing around. I take a deep breath. But then, I see this guy trying to park his scooter. He’s all over the place! I’m thinking, “Dude, it’s not rocket science!”

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