Paisley Hafnarfjoerdur Whore ❤️

About Kopavogur

Alright, so I’m a detective, right? Larry David style—neurotic, ranting, all that jazz. And I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, y’know, like ya do. Whore! What a word, huh? Sounds dirty, cheap—like a gum-stuck shoe. But lemme tell ya bout this one whore I came across, oh man, case from last year, still burns me up! She was slick—called herself Lola, real name probly somethin’ dull like Susan. Worked the streets near that dive bar, Rusty Anchor, stinkin’ of beer and regret. Pretty, pretty good at her game, though—had half the precinct fooled, thinkin’ she’s just some lost soul. Hah! Lost soul, my ass.

Primary Sidebar

As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back home, and I can’t help but think about how crazy today was. From dodging seagulls to spilling coffee, to reconnecting with an old friend, it was a rollercoaster. Hafnarfjörður, you’ve got my heart.

Fire in Hafnarfjörður