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My talking frog, he became my personal philosopher. I'd go to him with all my problems. I'd say, "I'm feeling a bit lost in life." And he'd go, "Sometimes, the path to happiness is as simple as a hop in the right direction." But then, there were moments he got too philosophical. I asked him, "What's the meaning of existence?" He looks at me dead serious and says, "To ribbit or not to ribbit, that is the question." I'm like, "Shakespeare would be proud!"
Honestly, having a talking frog was like having a wise old sage in a tiny, green package. But let me tell you, for every piece of wisdom he dropped, there were a hundred more puns to endure!
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You know, I had this talking frog that moved into my pond the other day. I was skeptical at first, thinking, "Great, now I've got a new roommate who's croaking all night." But this frog, let me tell you, he had the gift of gab! He was like the Kermit the Frog of the real world. I asked him, "What's up with all this talking?" And you know what he said? He said, "Well, I've got a lot to croak about!" Now, I don't know about you, but if a frog starts dropping puns, I'm all ears.
So, I thought I'd learn something profound from this amphibian. I said, "What's the secret to life?" And he goes, "Easy, just hop to it!" I'm like, "Hop to it? That's it?" But honestly, coming from a frog, it sounded profound.
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This talking frog of mine, he was something else. I'd take him out for walks, put him on my shoulder, and people would stop and stare. They'd be like, "Is that a talking frog?" And I'd be like, "No, he's the world's smallest motivational speaker!" But here's the thing, conversations with this frog got weirdly deep. One day, he looks at me and goes, "Do you ever wonder if flies have dreams?" I'm like, "I barely have time to wonder about my own dreams, let alone a fly's dreams!"
And then, he'd give me these life lessons, like, "You know, life is about finding your lily pad in a pond full of chaos." I'm thinking, "This frog's been reading too much self-help.
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I took my talking frog to a French restaurant the other day. Big mistake! The waiter comes over, asks for our order, and before I could say anything, this frog goes, "I'll have the escargot, s'il vous plaît!" I'm sitting there thinking, "What have I gotten myself into? My frog has fancier taste buds than I do!" And then he starts critiquing the cuisine. He's like, "This crème brûlée is a tad too burnt for my liking."
I'm trying to shush him, but he's on a roll. He's like, "This frog's legs dish... I feel personally attacked!" I'm like, "Dude, you're a frog! You're safe!" But let me tell you, that was the last time I took him out for French cuisine.
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