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You ever hear about the fish called smelt? It's like the James Bond of the seafood world. Small, mysterious, and everyone's like, "What is it doing here?" I mean, who named it smelt? It sounds like someone tried to spell "smell" but got distracted. "Hey, what's that fish over there?" "Oh, that's a sm— wait, did you just fart?" I tried ordering smelt at a fancy restaurant once. The waiter brought this tiny plate with three pieces of fish on it. I thought I accidentally ordered the appetizer for ants. I asked the waiter, "Is this the fish or the garnish?" He looked at me like I just asked if the chef could juggle while cooking.
I don't trust a fish that sounds like a past tense of a smell. Can you imagine a chef recommending it? "Our special tonight is the smelt. It smelt amazing when we cooked it!" No thanks, I'll go for something that doesn't sound like a failed Scrabble move.
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You know, I've been thinking about self-esteem lately, and it's a lot like smelt. Small, delicate, and it disappears when you least expect it. I tried boosting my self-esteem by doing positive affirmations in the mirror. "I am strong, I am confident, I am unstoppable!" But deep down, I felt more like a smelt in a sea of sharks. Self-esteem is like smelt because you can't just throw it on the grill and expect it to become a salmon. It needs time, care, and maybe a sprinkle of compliments. But let's be real, if smelt had feelings, it would have some serious self-esteem issues. "I'm not a salmon, but I'm trying my best, okay?
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I tried cooking smelt at home once. The recipe said, "Pan-fry until golden brown." Well, let me tell you, smelt turns from golden brown to charcoal black in the blink of an eye. I opened the pan, and it looked like I was cooking fishy firewood. I thought I had invented a new dish—smelt-flavored charcoal. I've never seen my smoke alarm so judgmental. It went off like, "Really? Smelt? Again?" My kitchen smelled like a fish market that caught fire. I learned my lesson: never underestimate the smelt. It may be small, but it has the power to turn your kitchen into a culinary disaster zone. Cooking with smelt is like playing with fire, but fishier.
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Dating is like smelt. At first, it's exciting, and you think, "Hey, this could be the one!" But then, after a few dates, you realize it's just a tiny fish swimming in a big pond. You start questioning your choices. "Why did I choose the smelt of relationships? Where are the salmon?" I once went on a date, and the guy ordered smelt. I should have seen it as a red flag. It's like he was saying, "I don't want a long-term commitment; I want something small and fleeting." Needless to say, that relationship didn't last. Smelt and love have a lot in common—both can be slippery and hard to hold on to.
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