Saw this place when coming back from San Pedro via Western. Outsid ads mentioned that they offered various types of massage and accepted most insurance. It was in a strip mall along the east side of Western. Inside looked like typical AMP and I rang bell. A voice whispered through a cloth blind as to how long I wanted and as I tried to peek through to see what she looked like I responded to one hour and gave her my 60. When she opened the door I was suprised to see what appeared to be a teen girl. She took me to a room that was sparse in appearence but with the typical set up with a table and cut out hole. I undressed and put the towel on the chair. Liah came in an put the towel on and started a conversation about me and I asked various questions about her. She is going to school to learn english, lives with Mom and Dad, has been here for two weeks after living with Gmom in Korea doing massage for a year. She was clearly trained in massage and began a really decent rub down. She was cute and giggled and wore a T-shirt with black tights with black shorts over the tights. Couldn't bring myself to try anything and just relaxed and enjoyed the massage. She kept everything above board and at one point left the room to talk to a male voice that was here manager coming back. I didn't see him when I left but heard another girl's voice in another room. She kept it cool on the flip and I tipped her 10 for her effort. I would go back for the quality massage but with no expectations.

"Fairyland" is an unusual name for an AMP, putting one in the mind of either drag queens, or a shimmering Shangri-la. Intrigued, I headed over to the sleazier eastern side of Pasadena to see the "Beautiful Asian Staff" advertised in the LA Weekly in recent weeks. Most of the AMPs I've been to in this part of the San Gabriel valley offer a few extra services, so my hopes were up. The girl behind the counter was young and cute, and there were two more young cuties in the hallway. Nothing but cuties - that's a good thing, but they were all wearing pants, and that's a sure sign that you're getting nothing more than a handjob. There are a number of loose rules of thumb I've discovered about these places. One is that young hotties generally give only average massages, and the other is that if the masseuse is wearing pants, you're not getting much beyond a happy ending, if that. My masseuse, Liah, was the cutest one of the bunch. Slender and silph-like, she had a long cascading black hair parted on the side that often covered one eye, a sexy top that laced down the side, tight jeans, and sexy shoes that made a pleasing clomping sound as she navigated her way around the table. I thought I recognized Mandarin being spoken in the hallway and Liah confirmed that she was Chinese, from a city where that language is spoken. Liah was friendly and made a little small talk as she proceeded to give me what was supposed to be a one hour massage that was okay, but nothing spectacular. I think my favorite part was the hand massage, when she skittered her fingers against the inside of my palm, sending me into a minor tizzy. During the events, I realized that the walls of the rooms don't extend to the ceiling, and I could hear every word being spoken in the hallway (of which there were many, the girls seem to hang out there). I could also hear all the transactions at the front desk. After about 45 minutes Liah announced she was finished, and that was that. No extras. Zero. Bummer. She was cute,