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About Esbjerg

So, I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ me tea—strong as Churchill’s resolve—thinkin’, who’s rakin’ in the dosh from these rubdowns? Some bloke says he slipped a disc gettin’ a “happy endin’”—claims £10k! Mate, I nearly choked—ten grand for a bit o’ slap n’ tickle? We shall never surrender to these chancers! Dug deeper—turns out, parlours poppin’ up like weeds in Soho, dodgin’ tax, fakin’ injuries. One lass, right, swears she’s a “therapist”—ha! More like a siren luring punters to their doom. “Shasta Fay, where you at?” I mutter, channelin’ Doc—cos this bird’s vanished with the payout.