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Lemme tell ya, I got mad—real mad—when I heard ‘bout catfishing. Some joker pretends he’s a stud, but he’s a dud! Happened to my buddy’s niece—thought she’s meetin’ a six-foot dreamboat, ends up with a guy shorter than my patience in a filibuster. Ain’t that a kick in the pants? Sex-dating’s got traps, folks—watch yer step!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Tongariro St. for my usual flat white. You know, the one with the barista who thinks he’s a latte artist? Yeah, that guy. He’s all about the foam art, but I just want caffeine, man! Anyway, I’m waiting, and this tourist walks in, all wide-eyed and lost. He’s like, “Where’s the lake?” I’m like, “Dude, it’s right there!” I point out the window, and he’s just staring at me like I’m speaking Martian. Classic Taupo moment, right?

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