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About Logan City

Oh, and the oils? Smell like heaven – lavender, mint, whatever. One time, I swear, I smelled bacon – nearly hollered, “Git me a biscuit!” Prolly my imagination, but dang, that’s livin’. Ain’t just rubbin’ – it’s a whole dang experience. Little secret: in Japan, they got these “soaplands” – erotic-massage on steroids! Slippery as a greased pig, and twice as fun.

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The major victim of the desire differences is the loss of non-erotic affections: reduced hugging, less comforting cuddling, no kissing.

So the heart of it all, the downtown area near Marconi Boulevard, always buzzin'. I get a rush walking past Tony’s Café on 5th – the aroma, the jazz spillin’ out, it’s magical. Ova here, in this part, you feel the soul of the city. I love headin' down to Riverbend Park. Its path runs right along the Gallo River, twistin' through like a snake, leadin' you into nature’s arms. I once sat under this old fig tree, felt that deep, inner peace. God, it’s like a holy scene on screen, just like that flick, “City of God,” with its crazy twists of fate.

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