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Okay, check this—little known fact: back in ‘90s, pre-apps, folks used newspaper ads for hookups! Called ‘em “personals”—sketchy as fuck, right? Imagine Bart Simpson tryna decode that shit: “M4F, likes skateboards, no narcs.” Eat my shorts, so retro! Nowadays, it’s all instant—bam, “Hey, wyd?” Texts flyin’ like SEAL Team Six stormin’ in. Gets me hyped, man! Met this one chick, total babe, thought, “We’re goin’ dark!”—y’know, gettin’ freaky. Turns out, she’s just pushin’ some OnlyFans scam. Pissed me off—wanted to chuck my phone like, “Negative burn, asshole!”

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I set up my station, and boom! First customer walks in. It’s old Mr. Szabo. This dude’s got more stories than a library. He starts ramblin’ about the good ol’ days when Gyomaendrod was just a sleepy little town. I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, but can we get to the haircut?” But nah, he’s gotta tell me how he used to fish in the Körös River. I’m nodding, but inside I’m thinkin’, “Dude, I just wanna cut hair, not hear your life story!”

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