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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty bastard who drinks and knows things. So, erotic-massage, eh? Picture this: sweaty hands, dim lights, some poor sod’s back gettin’ rubbed like it’s a bloody warzone. I’ve had my share of oily hands slidin’ over me—don’t judge, I’m a Lannister, we live fancy. Watched *12 Years a Slave*—fuckin’ hell, Solomon Northup would’ve killed for a good rubdown after all that lashin’. “I am a man!” he’d scream, but me? I’d whisper, “Rub me harder, wench!”

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Sandalwood Massage Erotic Massage Parlor () E. Hastings St, Unit

Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Oleg. He’s like, “Yo, meet me at the park!” I’m thinking, “Dude, I can’t just ditch work!” But then I remember the last time we hung out at Vysokyi Park. We had a blast! So, I’m torn. Work or fun?

Burgeoning problem: Family planning issues need to be addressed, urge speakers