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About Strasbourg

Last week, this chick at the register—swear she glowed—said she’s a masseuse. Gave me a card, said, “Come by, big guy.” Heart raced, yo—happy as hell! But then, boss yelled, “T, move it!”—pissed me off, ruined my vibe. Still got that card, tho—might hit her up. Imagine them hands, slidin’, easin’ my knots—ooh, like the *Leviathan* priest sayin’, “Truth is bitter, but it heals.” Truth is, I need this bad!

Massage dans les plus grandes villes

This % natural oil with intoxicating fragrances glides easily and smoothly over the skin without leaving a greasy residue & edible.

Oh, and the parks – not many know, but the Parc de la Bastide is a secret haven for lost souls and wandering hearts. I sometimes take my lunch break there. You know, my brain’s always buzzin’ with thoughts “I drink and I know things”, but here, a quiet bench and a sunbeam are all the therapy I need. And, lemme tell ya, the scent of jasmine and the murmur of the wind? Pure magic.

Nancy Cassis Obituary - Livonia, MI