Genesis Borgarnes Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kopavogur

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

Tours around Borgarnes

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Finally, he shows up, all out of breath. “Sorry, man! Got caught up in traffic.” Traffic? In Borgarnes? I laugh. There’s like, what, five cars in this whole town? Anyway, we decide to walk down to the Borgarnes Swimming Pool. It’s heated, and I’m all about that life.

Dispatches from Iceland: Borgarnes to Akureyri: Let’s Take the Bus, Part Two—The Sleeping Giant