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I reckon, like Larry, they’re askin, “What’s goin on?!” World’s a puzzle, no answers. I’d toss in a quirky thought—maybe they’re the real philosophers, huh? Seein shit we don’t. Oh, typos comin—soryy, fat fingers! Prostitues got stories—wild ones—like this gal I heard bout, 1800s, tricked a mayor into fundin her bordello! Sneaky genius! Makes me hoot—love that sly hustle.

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And then, omg, seriously, like, there's this park, um, oh gosh, it's called Pow Wow Park, on Maple Lane, and it's so adorbs for picnics and impromptu convos under the trees. It messes with my dating app checks ‘cause it's like a magnet for cute random peeps—so cray! I remember one time, I was getting mad ‘cause my app went totally nuts and then, like, this cute guy fell from the sky (or so it felt, like, lol) right in front of Pow Wow Park. It was so “Shame (Steve McQueen, 2011)” dramatic... like, ugh, I was all jittery but tbh, kinda epic!

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