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Right, so I’m cruisin’—not space, mind ya, but dodgy backstreets. Neon lights flashin’, smells like cheap booze and regret. This lass, she’s standin’ there, all sass, fishnets ripped—like she’s a groupie waitin’ for Zeppelin to roll thru. I’m like, “Oi, love, you got that stardust vibe!” She laughs, probs thinkin’ I’m bonkers, but I’m seein’ it—cosmic wisdom, innit? Prostitutes been round since forever—fact is, ancient Babylon had temple prossies, sacred as priests! Wild, eh?

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I gotta be honest – I’m a little biased. My life, my massages run deep. Like, my massage parlor is more than a business. It’s like a sanctuary. And every stone, every cracked sidewalk tells a story. Like that time I sat outside, watchin’ dusk fall on Citrus Lane (I think that’s the name…) and felt the whole universe whispered back.

Citrus County Sheriff’s Office records biggest fentanyl bust in agency history