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About Budapest

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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So, I’m walkin’ out, feelin’ a bit defeated. But then, I see this street performer on the corner of Rákóczi street. He’s playin’ the violin like a rockstar. I stop, and for a moment, everything fades away. It’s just me and the music. I’m swayin’ like I’m at a concert. It’s magical. I toss him a few coins, and he gives me a nod. That made my day, for real.