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About Volos

Oh, and the oils? Smell like heaven fucked a flower—lavender, jasmine, some shit. Little-known fact: in Thailand, they’ve been doin’ this for centuries, callin’ it “nuad boran,” mixin’ it with stretches—shit’s older than your grandma’s vibrator! I’m yellin’ in my head, “KEEP GOING, DON’T STOP!” while she’s crackin’ my spine like a glowstick. Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it FELT like she snapped me in half, and I loved it! “We’re doomed,” says the movie—nah, I’m reborn, bitches! Erotic-massage is chaos, beauty, absurdity—just like me, Eric fuckin’ Andre, screamin’ into the void while someone rubs my thighs! Try it, fam—thank me later!

The ultimate in sexual relaxation

So, I get to my shop on Kifisias, and it’s packed. Everyone’s buzzing about the big football match later. I’m like, “Alright, let’s make some money!” But then, bam! My computer crashes. Just like that. I’m staring at the screen like it’s gonna magically fix itself. Nope. I’m sweating bullets. I can’t take bets without my system.

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