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Gets me blood boilin tho, these hipsters now buyin em up, payin stupid cash for somethin I’d scrap for a tenner back in the day. Makes me wanna scream, “You’re a bunch of bellends!” But then - quiet thought in me head - maybe I’m jealous, eh? Cos when I was a lad, me uncle had an Escort, blue one, rusty as fuck, and we’d bomb round the estate, wind in me hair, feelin like kings. “Past is just a story we tell ourselves,” *Her* says, and ain’t that the truth? Nostalgia’s a sneaky bitch.

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Erotic massages often involve sexual undertones which go against the fidelity and respect in a marriage. Ethically, it's a violation of the.

Then, I decide to stroll down to the Murata River. It’s beautiful, right? Cherry blossoms everywhere, and I’m feelin’ all zen. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs past me, chasing a soccer ball. He kicks it, and BAM! Right into the river. I’m like, “Dude, your ball’s gone!” But he just shrugs and runs off. Kids these days, man. No attachment to their stuff.

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