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About Copenhagen

Well, hello there, my tasty friend! So, findin’ a prostitute, huh? Man, it’s a wild gig—kinda like defusin’ a bomb in *The Hurt Locker*. You’re sweatin’, heart’s racin’, thinkin’, “This could blow up in my face!” I reckon it’s a bit like me, Hannibal Lecter—calm on the outside, but inside? Pure chaos, ready to feast. I’d say, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” but nah, I ain’t eatin’ no hooker—just watchin’ the show.