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So I walk up, all cool, like, “Yo, what’s good?” She smirks, says somethin’ sassy—prolly calls me “sugar” or some shit. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This chick’s a trip!” Reminds me of Joe dancin’ with them dames—smooth as fuck. But here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got a fake leg, right? Peg leg hooker, motherfucker! Swear to God, blew my damn mind. I’m like, “That’s some next-level texture right there!” Scratches, dents—shit I’d kill to model in 3D. She catches me starin’, goes, “What, you into prosthetics, freak?” I’m dyin’, man—humor’s dark as hell.

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Then, I spot a kid flyin’ a kite. It’s all tangled up, and he’s gettin’ frustrated. I can relate, man. I’ve had my fair share of tangles on the mountain. So, I go over and help him out. We finally get it flyin’, and he’s grinnin’ ear to ear. That made my day!

'Charming' Essex pub opens its doors to customers just in time for Christmas