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Gets me mad tho—people judgin’ it, callin’ it dirty. Pisses me off! It’s art, kinda—takes skill, guts, knowin’ bodies like a map. Ever tried it? Me neither, too skeered, but I’d probly love it—warm oil, soft touch, yesss, precious! Bet it’d loosen me bony spine—crick-crack, ahhh! But nah, I’d hiss at ‘em, “Don’t touch me filthy hands!”

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So, I’m wiping bird crap off my shirt, and I hear this commotion. Turns out, there’s a street fair on Haharina Street. I mean, who doesn’t love a good street fair? I’m thinking, “Let’s get some local grub!” I dive into a plate of varenyky. OMG, they were heavenly. Like little pockets of joy. But then, I see this dude trying to sell me some weird-looking drink. He’s like, “It’s a health elixir!” I’m like, “Bro, it looks like swamp water.”

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