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D’oh! So, erotic-massage, huh? Man, it’s wild! Like, you walk in, all tense, thinkin’ bout bills, then BAM—some lady’s rubbin’ you down with oil slicker than a pig in mud! Mmm… donuts. Reminds me of “The Assassination of Jesse James”—y’know, that slow burn, tension risin’, waitin’ for somethin’ big. Except here, it’s hands, not guns, doin’ the work. “I’ve been a poor man, and I’ve been a rich man,” Jesse’d say—me, I’m just poor Homer wantin’ a backrub!

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Man, what a day in Skvyra! I mean, wow. I woke up thinking it’d be just another boring day, but boy, was I wrong. First off, I hit the streets of Shevchenka. You know, the main drag? It’s like the heartbeat of this place. I’m strolling, coffee in hand, feeling all philosophical, when BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, really? Thanks, nature.

Living Legacy: The Skverer Rebbe, zt”l