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About Reykjavik

Oh, and the noise—fuckin hell! Moans, creakin beds, some twat yellin for more. Like livin next to a pigsty. But—get this—some girls stash gold under the floorboards. Smart, eh? Made me happy for once—stickin it to the pimps. Still, it’s a shitshow. “We’re gonna get high-high-high,” they’d say in *Requiem*, chasin escape. Brothels peddle that lie too—freedom for a coin.

Sauðárkrókur (Krókurinn): The Prosperous Town in Skagafjörður

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After that, I decide to check out the local art scene. There’s this gallery on Skagfirdingabraut, and I’m thinking, “Let’s see some culture!” I walk in, and it’s all modern art—like, what even is that? One piece looks like a bunch of paint splatters on a canvas. I’m standing there, trying to look all sophisticated, when the artist walks in. He’s wearing a beret, and I’m like, “Oh boy, here we go.”

An Icelandic Tannery Makes Fish Skins Fashionable