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Me, Gollum, sees it sneaky-like. Split mind, split wants—half of me craves the thrill, half hates the fakes. Met this one lass on Tinder, profile all sparkly, pics like a goddess. In person? Hiss! More filters than a fish tank! Made me mad, yesss, stompin’ round me cave, cursin’. But then—oh, precious—another date, lad with a smirk, and damn, sparks flew! Happiest I been since stealin’ fish from hobbitses. Sex-dating’s a dice roll, innit?

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Then, just when I think I can breathe, in walks Sarah. She’s got that look, you know? The “I need a change” look. She sits down, and I’m thinking, “Alright, let’s do this.” But she starts telling me about her breakup. Ugh, the drama! I’m trying to cut her hair, but she’s crying. I’m like, “Sarah, love, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back!” But she’s not having it.

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