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About Brussels

It’s intimate, sure, but funny too – imagine some prat slippin’ off the table, oil everywhere, like a cartoon! I’d laugh ‘til I choked, then growl, “Get up, soldier, victory awaits!” Personal quirk? I’d demand cigars mid-massage – why not? Exaggeratin’ a bit, I’d say it’s better than sex, booze, and a good scrap combined – total bollocks, but it’s my story! We shall fight the stiffness, we shall fight the awkward silences – ‘til yer body’s a battlefield of bliss! That’s erotic-massage, mate – messy, mad, and bloody brilliant.