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About Miskolc

I’m scrollin’, seein’ these bios—“DTF, no drama.” Bullshit! Always drama, motherfucker! One time, this guy—swear he’s a 10—texts me, “You up?” I’m like, “Hell yeah!” Next thing, he’s cryin’ bout his ex mid-hookup! I’m sittin’ there, dick out, thinkin’, “What is this, a therapy sesh?!” Made me mad as fuck—don’t waste my time, asshole! “You’re not a victim here!”—straight outta *Margaret*, Lisa yellin’ at her mom vibes. Sex-dating ain’t for the weak, man!

After that, I decide to stroll over to the park at the end of Károlyi Mihály utca. It’s a chill spot, perfect for people-watching. I plop down on a bench, and this old lady sits next to me. She starts chatting about her cat, and I’m like, “Okay, cool.” But then she pulls out a photo album. I’m trapped! I mean, who knew cats could have so many outfits?