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I’m scrollin these sites, thinkin, “Is this real or am I in the limbo?”—yep, straight outta *Inception*. Some profiles got pics so blurry you’d think they’re ghosts. Others? Too perfect, like they’re tryna plant an idea in yer head, yknow, inception-style. “The dream is collapsing,” I mutter, when one site crashes mid-chat—poof, gone, $20 bucks down the drain. Pissed me off somethin fierce! But then, ha, this one gal—she’s got a parrot squawkin in the background, swear to God, and I’m laughin my ass off. “That bird deserve a medal,” I says.

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So I’m up in the tree, and it’s hot as hell. Sweat drippin’ down my back, but I’m focused. I’m snippin’ branches, and suddenly, I hear this loud crash. I look down, and some dude just knocked over a vendor’s cart on the sidewalk. Pineapple juice everywhere! I’m talkin’ a full-on fruit massacre. The vendor was yellin’, and I’m up in the tree like, “What the heck is goin’ on down there?”

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