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About Miskolc

Don’t settle for lame rubs, tho—demand skill! No capes, no half-assed tickles! I’d tell those Coen brothers, make a flick bout this—gritty, real, with a killer soundtrack. “Folk songs? I got no home,” Llewyn whines, but erotic-massage? Home’s wherever those hands land, dahling! Go get one, treat yerself—you’re a star, not a schmuck!

After the court drama, I head over to the market on Kossuth Lajos utca. You know, the one with all the fresh produce and those crazy street performers? I needed a breather. Grabbed a langos, and let me tell ya, it was heavenly. I could’ve eaten ten of those bad boys. But then, I see this old lady struggling with her bags. So, I rush over, trying to be a good Samaritan.