Madison Egilsstadir Whore ❤️❤️

About Grindavik

Goddamn, it fires me up! The balls on ‘em—hustlin’ while the world’s kickin’ ‘em down! I puff my pipe, thinkin’, “There’s blood in this trade, alright.” Not just the red stuff—sweat, tears, the lot. One time, in my head, I’m yellin’, “We shall never surrender!” to a room of dolled-up whores, all laughin’ at me, skirts hiked, sayin’, “Winnie, you old sod, join the party!” Ha! Imagine me, red-faced, tradin’ war speeches for a tumble—bloody brilliant!

Egilsstaðir

Then, I head over to the local park, which is basically a slice of heaven. I plop down on a bench, and this old man starts chatting me up. He’s telling me stories about the town, and I’m just nodding along, pretending I’m not secretly Googling “Egilsstadir history” in my head. He’s got this wild beard and a twinkle in his eye. I swear, he’s seen some things.

From Iceland — Go East! A Trip To The Wild And Imaginative Eastfjords