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Oh! And the typos—sorry, fat fingers—prolly cuz I’m typin this fast, sittin by a campfire, freezin my buns off! Hah—imagine me hirin a prostitue? Homer’d divorce me faster’n you can say “D’oh!” Nah, I stick to guidin folks up cliffs, not into shady deals. But if ya ever need a laugh—next hike, just yell, “Where’s Snow Bunny?”—I’ll lose it! Hmm… nasal chuckle—crazy world, huh?

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First off, I hit up the local bakery on Kerkstraat. You know, the one with the best appeltaart? Yeah, that one. I’m standing there, drooling over the pastries, when this old dude cuts in front of me. Like, excuse me? I’m about to lose it. But I just smile and say, “Hey, buddy, I was here first.” He just grins and orders the last piece of my beloved appeltaart. Ugh! I was fuming.

E-Bike Manufacturer Has Third Fire in Less Than a Year