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About Nyiregyhaza

But real talk—had one once, legit cried! Not kiddin, them hands hit spots I forgot I had! Felt like, “I’m not a number, I’m a free man!”—wait, wrong movie, heh! Nah, more like, “You’re gonna die, clown!” if they stopped, ya feel me? So intense, I was shook! Happy tears tho, not sad ones. Probs looked nuts sobbin on the table, but whatever, worth it!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Kossuth Lajos utca. You know, the one with the killer pastries? I’m talking about those flaky, buttery things that make you forget your diet. I ordered a cappuccino and a croissant, and guess what? They messed up my order! Like, how do you screw up a croissant? I was ready to throw a fit, but then I saw the barista’s face. Poor kid looked like he’d just seen a ghost. So, I just laughed it off.

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