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Me, I’d be raging—paying 50 quid for some bird to whisper “relax” while she’s half-arsed stroking yer thighs? Sod off! Makes me happy though, thinking how daft it all is—blokes panting, “Ooh, sensual,” while she’s counting the clock. Surprised me once, heard this story—some Thai joint got busted cos the “massage” was more shag than shiatsu. Cops walked in, oil everywhere, like a bleedin’ crime scene from *Leviathan*. “Who’s to blame?” they’d say in the film—well, the randy twat who booked it, obviously!

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So, I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, right? But then I see this family, splashing around like they’re in a freakin’ water park. I’m like, “Hey! You do know there are fish in there, right? And not the cute kind!” They just laugh. Ugh, people!

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