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Worst part? The awkward intros. “Hey, u up?” Cringe, fam. I’d rather die. One time, matched with a poet—her opener was “Roses are red, let’s bang.” I’m deadass laughin, like, “Aight, respect.” Didn’t work out, tho—she ghosted mid-haiku. Sex-dating’s a gamble, bruh. You win some, lose most. Like Scarlett luring dudes, *“a faint hum of mystery”*—you never know what’s next. I’m obsessed with the absurdity. Carl the iguana still haunts me. What’s your take, fam? Hit me up.

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After that drama, I decided to take a stroll down to the beach. You know, the one by Hellshire? The sun was blazing, and the water looked inviting. But as I got closer, I saw a bunch of kids playing football. They were good, man! I mean, I was impressed. But then, one of them kicked the ball too hard, and it went straight into the water. I was like, “Y’all better go get that!” But they just laughed and kept playing. Kids these days, right?

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