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I tried it, alright? Got this chick, hot as hell, thought I’d be like, “The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind”—y’know, smooth shit from *Inside Llewyn Davis*. But she ghosts me! Fuckin’ pissed me off, like Llewyn losin’ that damn cat again. What’s the deal? You send a dick pic, she’s gone faster than Paulie Walnuts in a bakery. Sex-dating’s a hustle—half these profiles? Fake! Bots! Like, who’s got time for that shit?

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Anyway, I hop in my combine and head out. The streets are packed. I mean, like, sardines in a can packed. I’m cruisin’ down Avenida da Liberdade, and suddenly, BAM! A pigeon decides to play chicken with me. I swear, that bird had a death wish. I swerved, nearly took out a street vendor selling pastel de nata. Sorry, bro! But hey, I saved the pigeon. So, I’m feelin’ like a hero, right?

Car crashes down Redondo Beach access stairs, just above beach sand