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About Philadelphia

Alright, so sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s wild! I mean, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—what’s the deal with it? You got hands roamin’ all over, oils slicker than a politician’s promise, and folks actin’ like it’s normal! Pretty, pretty good, right? Nah, it’s freaky! I tried it once—once!—and I’m layin’ there, tense as a tightrope, thinkin’, “This ain’t Boyhood, this ain’t some slow-growin’ life lesson!” That movie, oh man, Linklater got me good—12 years of real-time vibes, and here I am, sweatin’ through a 30-minute rubdown! “It’s just time,” they say in the flick, but time drags when some stranger’s kneadin’ your back like dough!

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When her stepbrother, Michael, suggests a calming massage, she scoffs. Giving in to his advice, she discovers something much better than a massage.

Now, lemme tell ya ‘bout a hidden gem. There’s this lil’ café on W Apple Avenue where the best darn espresso is made. I be there sometimes when my noggin needs a break after some crazy therapy sessions. There’s chatter, laughter, a bit like spontaneous therapy. Nobody's perfect, and sometimes I feel like throwin' my hands up, thinkin’—"Eh, what a headless mess we all are!"—but then, ya gotta laugh, right?

Warren Buffet announces surprise retirement