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About Malaga

Once, I almost asked her out. Not for that—just coffee, ya know? But nah, chickened out, fuckin dumbass. “I’m not a fisherman, I’m a fool!” Exaggeratin? Maybe, but it’s me. She’d prob laugh, say, “You’re weird, fish boy.” And I’d be like, “Hell yea, babe!” We come in peace (robotic tone)—but I’m chaos inside. That’s the scoop, man—prossies, boats, Tenenbaums. Wild life!

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And err, let me add some quirky, like, personal thoughts: sometimes when I'm kneading a client's back, I'll think, “What if life’s just a series of random massages?” It’s a deep, deep thought, like something out of a Coen movie – “like, literally everything is preordained to be random?” Ugh, so trippy!

Cabra - Review - West Loop - Chicago