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About Gardabaer

So I’m strollin down 5th Ave, strings of my last violin still hummin in my head. The city stinks—piss, hot dogs, desperation. Perfect vibe to find a prostitue. I see her, leanin on a lamppost, skirt hiked up, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “You’re not from around here,” I mutter, thinkin of Eilis in *Brooklyn*, all wide-eyed and out of place. She smirks, “Wanna bet, strings?” Strings! Ha! She clocked me—violin guy. Made me grin, rare for me.

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I'm living it up in Gardabaer and find-a-prostitute is nifty! I need to taste your lips again. I indulge in Anal Sex (depends on the size) and Blowjob without.

But then, outta nowhere, he starts talking about how he used to fish in the ocean. And I’m like, “Wait, what? There’s fishing here?” I had no idea! I mean, I’ve lived here for a while, and I never thought about fishing. I’m just an animation artist, not a fisherman! But now I’m curious. Maybe I’ll give it a shot.

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