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About Heraklion

Ever tried it? Me neither—too cynical. But damn, the stories! Mate of mine swore it “fixed his back.” Fixed his pants more like—everybody lies! Got me thinking—what’s the line, huh? Therapy or foreplay? Varda’d say, “The edges blur, that’s life.” She’s right—erotic-massage lives in that blurry, oily mess. Surprised me once, reading this Thai joint’s menu—30 bucks extra for “special attention.” Special my foot—capitalism’s a pimp!

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Then, bam! My phone dies. Just like that. No warning. I’m lost without it. I mean, how do people survive without Google Maps? I’m wandering around, trying to find my way back to the beach. I end up on Koryfiou Street, which is super cute but not where I wanna be. I’m sweating, and my brain’s like, “You should’ve charged your phone, genius.”

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