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But then—fuck—some crap surprises ya. Catfishers, man, they’re everywhere. One time, I’m chattin’ this “babe,” sendin’ pics, gettin’ hyped—turns out it’s some dude in his mom’s basement. I’m like, “You cockroach, I’ll bury ya!” Felt so dumb, man, wanted to scream. And the apps? They don’t care—money, money, money. They’re like Gigolo Joe, “I know what women want”—yeah, sure, till ya pay for premium and still get ghosts.

Yo, listen up! So, PSint-Job-in--t-Goor, right? It's a wacky little gem in Belgium, innit, like proper off the radar stuff. I'm a datin’ app dev here, so I peep all the juicy bits. Let me give ya the lowdown, fam.

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