Isabelle Schwedt (oder) Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Berlin

Gets me chuffed, tho—good sexual-massage, proper lush. Muscles chill out, but then, bam, *slaps thigh*—happy endin’ territory! Mate, I’m red-faced just thinkin’ it. Once heard this lass, right, she said it’s “therapeutic,” but I’m like, *squints, suspicious* therapeutic my arse! Got me ragin’ when they charge 50 quid for 10 minutes—daylight robbery! *shakes fist* But when it’s done right, ooh, *leans back, sighs*—like floatin’ on clouds, innit?

Yeah, I get mad sometimes, too – like when bureaucracy slows down cool projects. "You shall not pass!" I yell at red tape. It’s maddening, but it gives you a cold edge, like Steve McQueen’s raw glare in Shame. Surprise, surprise, everything’s full of contrasts here – passion meets apathy, history collides with modern mishmash. Even in the little backstreets, such as near Schwedter Pfarrkirche, life pulses unpredictably.

German refineries seek to operate without Russian crude