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What pisses me off? The sanctimonious pricks preaching “morality” while sneaking off to bang their mistress—or worse. Hypocrisy’s thicker than the makeup on these girls. Happy? Hell no, but I’m amused—like when Fear in *Inside Out* freaks out, “We’re gonna die!” Yeah, maybe, if you pick the wrong alley. Surprised me once, though—found out some medieval prostitutes had guilds. Guilds! Like, unionized sex workers demanding dental. Wild, right? Imagine that negotiation: “More coin or I bite harder.”

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So, check it: Down on Crescent Bay Road, you got this lit vibe. The locals be hangin’ out on Driftwood Avenue—crazy chill spots, filled with cafes, tiny boutiques; some with scorchin’ art that makes you wanna say "Goodbye to Language" like our boy Godard. I swear, as I rub out all life’s tension, I think: “Yo, this city’s speakin’ in colors, words lost in the breeze.”

Labrador Retriever’s Pure Delight When Great Grandma Surprises Him Is Way Too Sweet