Anna Punggol Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Tampines

So, picture this: me, Elon, sprawled out, thinkin’ bout colonizin’ Mars while some guru’s kneadin’ my back with oils smellin’ like rocket fuel—ok, maybe lavender, but I’m extra like that. Sexual-massage ain’t just rubbin’—it’s a full-on sensory upload to the Neuralink mainframe. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d do this with olive oil and a side of orgy—multitaskin’ at its finest, amirite? Probs why the empire fell—too much “massage,” not enough aqueducts. LOL.

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We end up near the Punggol Jetty, and I’m thinking, “This is it. I’m gonna catch him.” But nah, he jumps onto a boat. A freakin’ boat! I’m standing there like an idiot, soaked in sweat, while he’s waving goodbye. I’m so mad, I could scream.

'I really want to know them and let them know about me': Gan Kim Yong bonds with Punggol residents during walkabout