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Ever notice how the first day of school pictures are basically a time-lapse of your child's growth? You start with the full-body shot, backpack and all, and each year, it's like you're slowly zooming in. By the time they're in high school, you're practically cropping them out of the frame. Time flies, and so does the crop factor.
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I recently tried my hand at gardening. You know, planting flowers, herbs, the whole deal. But let me tell you, Mother Nature doesn't follow my cropping rules. She just lets everything grow wild and free. I'm out there with my scissors, trying to give the garden a little makeover, but it's like a jungle rebellion.
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I find it amusing how we all have that one friend who's a master at cropping people out of pictures. You could have a group photo with ten people, and by the time they're done, it's a solo portrait. It's like they have a PhD in the art of selective cropping.
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I was at the grocery store the other day, and I couldn't help but notice the produce section. It's like a beauty pageant for fruits and veggies. They're all lined up, looking flawless. But in reality, I know that behind those perfectly displayed apples, there's a reject pile with the awkwardly shaped ones. I want to see the real "before" pictures of those fruits.
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Why is it that when someone is telling a long and boring story, you instinctively start mentally cropping it? You're standing there, nodding and smiling, but in your mind, you're like, "Okay, let's skip to the punchline. Crop, crop, crop!
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Have you ever tried cutting your own hair? It's like playing a risky game of crop roulette. You start with just a little trim, thinking you're a professional stylist, and before you know it, you're desperately trying to even things out, hoping no one notices the uneven patches. Thank goodness for hats.
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Cooking is an adventure, especially when a recipe says, "chop the vegetables finely." I don't know about you, but my interpretation of "finely" is a bit different. It's more like a vegetable massacre. I call it the culinary crop circle.
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Dating is like cropping your social life. You meet someone, things are going well, and suddenly you find yourself mentally cropping out the exes, the emotional baggage, and that weird thing they do when they eat. Ah, the romantic art of selective cropping.
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You ever notice how when you're trying to take a group photo, suddenly everyone becomes a professional photographer? People start shouting out, "Wait, let me just crop it a bit!" As if cropping can magically erase a bad hair day or that questionable fashion choice.
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The elevator is a strange place. It's the only situation where everyone pretends to be busy with something on their phone. You enter, and suddenly, it's a mobile crop party. People are furiously scrolling through their apps, pretending not to make awkward eye contact. It's the "please don't talk to me" crop technique.
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