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About Gyor

Weird thought pops up—prostitutes prolly got stories wilder than mine. I jump outta planes, sure, but she’s dodgin’ creeps daily. Respect, yo. I pay her, we chill, no funny biz. Just talkin’. She says, “You’re weird, fire dude.” I’m like, “Yeah, and you’re a legend.” Hannibal-style, I’m seein’ the absurdity—me, her, this whole damn scene.

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After the rain, the sun came back out, and everything was glistening. I decided to wander around. I hit up the local market on Széchenyi utca. Man, the vibe there is always buzzing. Fresh fruits, veggies, and the smell of street food. I grabbed some langos (deep-fried goodness) and just sat there, munching away. Life was good again.

Easter sweet tooths keeping local bakery busy