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You ever notice how the term "ghetto" gets thrown around? Like, everything these days is either "ghetto" or "fabulous." There's no in-between. I'm just waiting for someone to start a trend called "Ghetto Fabulous." Picture this: a red carpet made out of duct tape, blinged-out shopping carts, and instead of a limo, you roll up in a pimped-out shopping cart. That's the future of fashion, my friends. Ghetto Fabulous, where looking cheap is the new chic.
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I recently tried using a GPS in a ghetto neighborhood. Big mistake. The GPS was like, "In 500 feet, make a left turn into the abyss." I'm just sitting there like, "Is this a shortcut or a setup?" The GPS lady sounded so calm, like she's done this before. "Turn left, and if you see a burning trash can, you've gone too far." I had to upgrade to the "Suburban Edition" GPS, where the directions include phrases like, "You're now entering a non-gentrified zone. Lock your doors and pray.
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You ever been to a ghetto grocery store? It's like entering a battlefield. Shopping carts with minds of their own, dodging through the aisles like they're training for the Indy 500. And don't even get me started on the checkout line. It's a strategic game of choosing the shortest line, only to find out the person in front of you is paying with a check from the '90s. Ghetto grocery shopping is a survival skill. I bring my own snacks just to make it through the snack aisle.
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They say you can find hidden gems in the ghetto. Well, I found one—the Ghetto Gourmet restaurant. The chef is a guy named Ramen Royalty. The menu? Instant noodles with a side of dreams. They serve it on a paper plate to keep it real, and the ambiance? Well, let's just say the flickering fluorescent lights really set the mood. But hey, they've got Michelin stars on their shopping cart wheels. Ghetto Gourmet, where the struggle is the secret ingredient.
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