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Lemme tell ya, I was on this one app—dude, the profiles! Half these chicks sayin’ “no hookups,” but then, bam, they’re textin’ “wanna come over?” Hypocrisy pisses me off! Like, Carol’d never play games—she’s all “I know what I want,” ya know? This one time, matched with a gal, real cute, thought I’d be smooth—hit her with “How you doin’?” She ghosted me! Ghosted! Felt like Therese ditchin’ Carol for a sec—gut punch, man.

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I grab some gelato after that. I mean, it’s a must, right? I go for pistachio. It’s creamy, dreamy, and I’m in heaven. But then, I drop it. Yup, right on the ground. I’m standing there, staring at my fallen gelato like it’s a lost friend.

Capri Sun takes a swing at an eclipse with limited 'Moon Punch' drink