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About Philadelphia

Alright, so here’s the deal—erotic-massage, huh? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’, what’s the big fuss? I mean, it’s hands, oil, some schmuck on a table—pretty, pretty good, right? But then, bam, it hits me! This ain’t just rubbin’ shoulders, no sir! It’s like, sensual, steamy, borderline “are we allowed to do this?” territory. I saw this ad once—shady parlor, neon lights blinkin’ “Massage”—yeah, right, massage my foot! Made me so mad, these phonies actin’ all innocent. But then, I tried it—legit one, okay?—and whoa, I’m Leonardo DiCaprio in *Wolf of Wall Street*, screamin’, “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!” ‘Cause that’s what it feels like—pure excess, baby!