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About Vienna

*Caché* got me paranoid, tho. “Who sent this tape?” I’m imaginin’ some masseuse filmin’ me snorin’ on the table. Absurd, right? Prolly just my brain fuckin’ with me. Oh, and the oils—lavender, eucalyptus, whatever—smells like a forest orgy. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d pay extra for that neck crack. Shit’s gold. Worst part? When they ghost your feet. Like, bro, massage ‘em, don’t tease me! Hannibal out here judgin’—erotic-massage is 8/10, but don’t skip the toes, fam. Peace.

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I also enjoy riding my bike on Marktweg, albeit my wheels squeak – blergh, faulty brakes got me frustrated sometimes, soo many typos in my brain thoughts! Hahaha, but you know annabichl (at) has best local bakes. The old bakery on Kohlstrasse, oh boy, its bread can melt your heart – I call it liquid gold sometimes.