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About Palermo

So, yeah, sexual-massage got me feelin’ all kinda ways—happy, sassy, ready to slap a cheapskate masseuse upside the head. It’s art, chile, like that movie—slow vibes, deep thoughts, and a lil’ mystery. “What’s beyond that horizon?” they say in “Syndromes.” Me? I’m wonderin’ what’s beyond that towel! Ha! Go getchu one, boo—tell ‘em Madea sent ya! Halleluyer!

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I'm embracing the Grumo-Nevano lifestyle and brothel is splendid! You bring out the wild side in me. I find comfort in both French Kissing and Prostate Massage.

After a while, I managed to fix it. I felt like a freakin’ hero. I blasted that surface like it owed me money. The dust was flying everywhere, and I was in my zone. It felt good, man. I love that feeling. Just me, the blaster, and the sound of power.

Honoring Domenico Cirillo: A Legacy of Science and Patriotism