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Yo, what’s good? So, erotic-massage, man—wild shit. I’m an animation artist, right? Drawin’ all day, hands cramped up. Then bam, erotic-massage hits different. Ain’t just rubbin’—it’s like, tension out, vibes in. Watched *The Assassination of Jesse James* again last night—fuckin’ masterpiece, slow burn, y’know? That line, “You ever counted the stars?”—makes me think. Erotic-massage got that same quiet intensity. Ain’t loud, but damn, it creeps up.

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Finally, I get past that mess and head over to the Constant Spring Market. I love that place. Fresh fruits, veggies, and the best jerk chicken you can find. I’m all about that food life. So, I grab some ripe plantains and a couple of coconuts. I’m feeling good, right? But then, I see this guy selling these crazy hats. Like, one’s got a giant pineapple on it. I’m like, “Dude, who’s wearing that?” But I can’t help but laugh. I mean, it’s Constant Spring, where anything goes.

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