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About Yokohama

So, lemme tell ya, sexual-massage ain’t just rubbin’ and tuggin’—it’s an art, ya dopes! I seen some shady parlors, oh boy, made me madder than a wet hen! One time, this chick—hands like sandpaper—tried givin’ me one. I’m like, “Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain!” Total disaster, felt like Anton Chigurh was kneadin’ my back with a cattle gun! But when it’s good? Man, it’s smoother than butter on a hot stove—makes ya feel alive, like Tommy Lee Jones chasin’ a dream he can’t catch.

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After that little drama, we hit the streets again. I’m trying to teach him parallel parking, and let me tell ya, it’s a disaster. He’s all over the place, bumping into the curb like it’s his best friend. I’m yelling, “Dude, you’re not trying to hug the curb! You’re trying to park!”