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About Philadelphia

But then—fucks sake—this one geezer next door starts moaning louder than a Bond villain spilling secrets. Pissed me right off! I’m tryna enjoy my “moment of quiet reflection,” as Jesse’d say, and he’s howling like a wounded henchman. Nearly leapt off the table, silenced him with a martini glass. Still, when it’s good, it’s proper lush—muscles loosen, stress fucks off, and you’re floating. “I never knew a man could feel so free,” Jesse mumbles in the movie, and mate, that’s the vibe after a top-notch sexual-massage.

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Blaine's got hidden gems, ya know? I love hangin' by Lake Orchard. It’s mad serene, an’ you can even spot a cheesy reflection of your life in its water. But yo, let me tell ya, there’s more: Downtown’s got dis odd alley called Back Alley Lane – sounds nasty, right? But it's quirky as hell. Graffiti and vibes that remind me of lost dreams in a neon haze. Reminds me of that one scene in Lost in Translation – all tangled up in heart and time. “Is it ’cos I is black?” Nah, just messin' with ya, innit! I get my kicks watchin' people hustle here, so raw.

Neighbors demand Seattle take action, claiming 'rampant' public masturbation at Denny Blaine Park