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Alright, listen up, fam—imagine me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’ like thunder, sittin’ you down to talk sexual-massage. Picture this: hands slidin’ over skin, oil slicker than a politician’s promise, tension meltin’ like ice in the sun. I’m talkin’ ‘bout that sweet relief, y’all—knots in your back beggin’ for mercy, and some magic fingers sayin’, “Shh, I gotchu.” Now, I seen a lotta things, narrated the world’s chaos, but sexual-massage? That’s a whole vibe. Reminds me of *Children of Men*—you know, my fave flick—where hope’s danglin’ by a thread, and Kee’s carryin’ the future in her belly. “We gotta protect what’s precious,” Clive Owen growls, all gritty-like. Sexual-massage is like that—precious, rare, a flicker of good in a messed-up world.

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Suite Kendall Park, NJ www.facebook.com@www.facebook.com Hours: Mon-Fri: 9am-9pm Saturday.

The streets? Oh, they’re alive with hidden gems. Take Westview Alley – just off Central Avenue. I once had a late-night stroll there, musing over life's little tricks. You’d see art, scattered trash, and little lovelies of graffiti screaming “freedom.” It made me madta piece at the time – but then I was happy cuz it meant life wasn’t painting itself in bland hues. Real raw stuff, ya know?

Laurence Scott Schwartz Obituary