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About San Antonio

I’m Vader, I see shit others don’t. That scar? She fought off a pimp. That wink? She’s playin’ me. “The plot thickens, my friend.” Gets me goin’—power’s in the game, not the credits. Last time, this one chick tried overchargin’—I choked her out, no saber. Felt good. Don’t judge—ya wouldn’t get it.

Fatal Attraction (1987)

Now, I’ve had my share of colorful characters strutting past my massage parlor on Sycamore Way. Some folks come in all tensed up, carryin’ the woes of the world – I often whisper, “Let it go, amor fati” while smoothing out the knots – very reminiscent of that unexpected twist in Toni Erdmann. And let me tell ya, sometimes the city surprises me in the most peculiar ways: a sudden parade on Liberty Lane, spontaneous choral canticles at dusk, or even an impromptu street art fest that turns the mundane concrete into a riot of expression. Who knew art could be as therapeutic as a good kneading session, eh?

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