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So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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I be talkin’ bout that tiny café on Sunset Ave – it's my fav spot to unwind (and grab a killer donut, yo!). I get some deep chats with friends there. Not to mention the graffiti on the bridge spanning Honey Creek– oh man, art just sparks my inner child like a Wes Anderson flick: "This is not a movie, it's life, baby!" Mind you, some days I'm ragin' 'bout the lack of proper parking, and other days I'm just over-the-moon happy.

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