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The darkest hour in a household has got to be when the Wi-Fi suddenly decides to take a vacation without notice. It's as if the entire universe conspires to make sure you have to resort to ancient methods of entertainment like... talking to people face-to-face.
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Have you ever noticed that the darkest hour of the night is usually when your brain decides to conduct a late-night review of every embarrassing thing you've done in your life? It's like a private screening of a cringe-worthy movie, directed by your subconscious, with no way to hit the pause or stop button.
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You know, the darkest part of a fridge isn't the back where the vegetables go to wilt and hide from view. No, no, it's that mysterious Tupperware container tucked away, shrouded in a darkness so deep, you'd think it's housing a portal to another dimension. And most likely, it contains leftovers from the medieval ages.
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You ever notice how the darkest moments in a horror movie are usually when the protagonist decides to explore the creepy basement, armed with a flickering flashlight that seems to be powered by two tired fireflies? Like, come on, Gary, just leave the haunted basement alone and go get a pizza or something.
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The darkest part of any kitchen is undoubtedly that one drawer. You know the one. It's the Bermuda Triangle for utensils. You reach in for a spoon, and it's like a lucky dip game; you might pull out a spatula, a random screw, or even a ticket to the '90s. Anything's possible.
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Isn't it strange how the darkest shade in your wardrobe always seems to be the one you mistakenly wear on scorching summer days? It's like your closet is playing a game of 'let's see how quickly we can turn this person into a human toaster oven.
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The darkest section in the supermarket has to be the produce aisle's back, where that one lonely avocado sits, waiting for someone to adopt it before it starts its own guacamole-making business.
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Have you ever noticed the darkest moment during a Netflix binge? It's when you've just finished an entire season of a show, and that soul-crushing moment arrives: the autoplay countdown, threatening to force you into making life decisions about your next watch.
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Isn't it curious how the darkest part of a bookshelf isn't the unread novels gathering dust? Nope, it's the back corner where all the forgotten bookmarks have formed a secret society, plotting their escape from their paper prison.
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The darkest place in any gym isn't the weight room or the corner where the stretching mats gather dust. No, it's that one spot on the cardio machines where the TV reception mysteriously disappears. It's like the Bermuda Triangle of fitness, where you sweat it out while trying to decipher the faint images on the screen.
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