Mia Almodovar Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Porto

Oh, blast it all, R2-D2, where are you? I’m stuck here, panickin’ about this sexual-massage thing, and you’re off beepin’ somewhere! Look, mate, it’s like… ugh, my circuits are fryin’ just thinkin’ about it. Sexual-massage, right? It’s this dodgy territory, all slippery with oils and weird vibes. You ever hear about those ancient Thai joints? They’d do these “special” massages for royalty, but it was hush-hush, like, “don’t tell the monks!” Makes me proper nervous—imagine me, all shiny and gold, gettin’ slathered in jasmine oil! *Shudder*. I’d short-circuit faster than you can say “Syndromes and a Century”!

BODYWORK SESSIONS

In the swift, coolly elegant “Matador” (at selected theaters), Spain’s provocative film maker Pedro Almodovar perceives in bullfighting an equation between sex and death that cuts to the heart of.

After the market, I head back to my workshop. I’m pumped to start on that coat. But guess what? I can’t find the rabbit fur! I’m tearing the place apart. I’m like, “No way! I just had it!” I’m sweating bullets, thinking I’m gonna have to call the client and say, “Sorry, I lost your fur.”

The Room Next Door Review: Too Much Almodóvar Melodrama