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About Reykjavik

Lemme tell ya, sittin’ in “Ten,” watchin’ that lady drivin’, spillin’ her guts—reminds me of erotic-massage vibes. “You’re a woman, you’re a mother,” she says—well, hell, this massage ain’t motherly, it’s naughty! Hands roamin’ where they shouldn’t, kneadin’ knots outta yer soul. Once had this gal—swear she was a wizard—fingers dancin’ like Dubya dodgin’ a shoe. Felt like I’d died and gone to Crawford, y’all. Surprised me how it’s legal—well, sorta, depends on the joint.

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Then, we decide to head to the Borgarnes Museum. I mean, history, right? But honestly, I’m just there for the free Wi-Fi. I’m scrolling through my phone, and I see this meme about Icelandic weather. It’s like, “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.” So true! One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring.

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