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I was walking to lunch trying to admire the flawless San Francisco afternoon, but mostly thinking about my back hurting, when suddenly this sidewalk chicklet popped up in front of me handing out free Advil. It was St. Fabiloa intervening, obviously. I took them with thanks both to the chicklet and Fabiola and crossed the street only to be confronted by some wildman in the middle of a fantabulous drum solo. His kit was made out of old plastic buckets and beat up old pots and pans, but he was rocking. Free Drugs! Free Beats! I looked around for the Free Lap Dancers, but no luck.

I came back and found jason’s demand for muscle pussy (below) and knew that’s where the Free Sex part must be waiting. To that end (so to speak) let me present a shot of my favorite local massage artiste:

I gotta go

About mrpeenee

A former bon vivant and terror of a number of New Orleans bars in the mad, gay 1980s, I'm now quietly retired and widowed in San Francisco. I have a crooked nose due to an unfortunate Frisbee accident.

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