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About Pecs

Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a freakin’ trip! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like that kid David from *A.I.*, y’know? “I’m real, I’m real!” – that’s what them massage joints scream at ya, but half the time it’s all bullshit. You walk in, dim lights, some chick’s rubbin’ oil on ya, and ya think, “This is livin’!” – but then, bam, ya realize it’s a front for somethin’ else. Made me mad as hell once, got duped in Atlantic City. Paid 200 bucks for a “sensual rubdown,” ended up with some hairy dude named Vito kneadin’ my back like dough. Fuckin’ disgrace!

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After that little drama, I head back to the lab. I’m thinking, “Okay, let’s get back to work.” But nope! My colleague, Anna, is in a panic. She’s like, “The samples! They’re gone!” I’m like, “What do you mean gone?” Turns out, someone mixed up our samples with some random stuff from the storage. I’m livid! I mean, who does that?

Hungarian ‘clown of dogs’ wins over foreign countries