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But then—ugh—the smell! Can we talk about that? Stale beer, cheap perfume, unwashed socks—gimme a break! I’d be gaggin’ five minutes in. And the noise! Moanin’, laughin’, some idiot bangin’ a piano off-key. I’d go nuts! “What’s this racket?!” I’d scream, like a lunatic. Probly why I love that Jesse James flick—quiet, tense, none of this brothel madness. “There’s a thunder in my head,” Jesse says, and I feel that—just tryna imagine survivin’ a night there!

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Anyway, I finally get back to it. I’m in my zone, right? Then, I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, a bunch of tourists are tryin’ to take selfies with the river in the background. They’re blocking my spot! I’m like, “Yo, this ain’t a photo op, it’s a fishing spot!” But they just smile and wave. Ugh, tourists, am I right?

ICE-SAR, Police search for man who fell into Ölfusá river in Selfoss town, South Iceland