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About Amsterdam

So, check this—sex-dating’s everywhere now, Tinder, Bumble, even freaky niche sites. Little known fact: back in the 90s, folks used newspaper ads for this shit— "Personals," they called ‘em! Can you imagine? “Lonely guy, 35, seeks hot date”—no pics, just vibes! Now it’s all instant, bam, nudes in your DMs—progress, huh? Makes me happy, tho—freedom to connect! But billionaires? They’re screwin’ it up, hoardin’ wealth while we’re out here tryna fuck or fall in love! Passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”

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First off, I get a call about a cat stuck in a tree. Classic, right? But this wasn’t just any cat. This was Mr. Whiskers, the neighborhood legend. Everyone knows him. He’s like the furry mayor of Papendrecht. So, I grab my gear and head over to the Van der Palmstraat. I get there, and there’s a crowd. Seriously, people were taking selfies with the tree! I’m like, “Guys, it’s just a cat!” But nope, they were all about that Instagram life.

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