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Little factoid—ancient Rome had this shit. Senators gettin’ oiled up, probably by some bored slave goin’, “Yeah, rub my back, peasant.” History’s freaky, yo. Surprised me when I read that—thought it was just horny spa people inventin’ it. Nope, old-school. My fave part? When they hit that spot—y’know, lower back—and you’re like, “Oh, damn, I’m alive!” But then, ugh, they talk. “You stressed?” No, Karen, I’m butt-naked, I’m good.

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Then, outta nowhere, I spot my buddy Vasyl. He’s the one who always cracks jokes, even in the worst situations. He’s tryin’ to calm everyone down, but he’s also makin’ them laugh. I swear, he’s got a gift. I’m over here like, “Vasyl, this ain’t the time for stand-up!” But he just grins and says, “Better to laugh than cry, right?”

Yad Vashem Book of Names: A duty to connect, remember Holocaust victims