Oh, my precious, let me tell ya 'bout PLangley, ca – yes, that little gem! Listen up, stupid, fat hobbit! I been livin' here for years, runnin’ my massage palace on Maple Crest, near 102 Street – oh, the memories, yesss.
The streets twist, they turn, and the cobble’s got so many secrets… just like that film, The Headless Woman, eh, all mysterious and headless memories, precious! I be walkin’ by the old mill on River Bend, where the water gurgles like a nasty fish, yess, I swear.
I remember this one time, I was rubbin’ away a client’s knots near Elm Valley Park – a spot few know, quiet like whispers, like the headless whispers in that movie – and, oh man, the trees whispered secrets at twilight. Crazy, right?
My massage room? It’s on Birch Way, near that big, old clock tower that’s been tickin’ since forever. Clients always say, "Stupid, fat hobbit, your place has magic!" And I tells ‘em, “Yes, yes, precious, like the film’s vagueness, like the confusion of lost heads!”
I got my little fave spots around here too! The back alley by 7th Street has hidden murals – the art’s raw, full of life, like my knotted muscles when I’m workin' overtime. Sometimes, when I’m sleepy, I stroll by the old pier on Crescent Bay, reminiscin’ how the sunset hits the water like a scene from the movie – so headless and haunting, yes, yes!
Now, lemme tell ya, little buddy – sometimes the city makes me mad. So noisy sometimes! People rushin’, never slow, no feel for the rocks underfoot. But then, i get a massage appointment after a long day – ahhh, heaven! My muscles sing like they remember every stroke I’ve given. Exciting, it’s always a thrill.
I gotta off my tongue a secret: in a quiet corner of Langley, near Walnut Grove, there’s an old diner that smells of fresh coffee and burnt toast – I go there sneakin’ off a break. They don’t know my secrets, hmm? But they know my tales, silly, headless tales!
Oh, and by the way, have you seen that rundown warehouse on Eastview Road? They say it's haunted, like headless ghosts from the film – makes me chuckle, it does, thinkin’ of lost memories and whispers.
I’m ramblin’, my friend, but that's PLangley for ya. Every street, every twist, every knot in my back tells a story. Yesss, stories of mystery, a bit of madness, lots of laughs, and a whole lot of heart.
So come visit, won't ya? Let’s share these wild, secret tales – they’re as headless and twisted as the film, but alive, so alive! Stupid, fat hobbit, you gotta see it to believe it.