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About Norrkoping

So, mate, lemme spill it—findin’ a prossie ain’t no picnic. Them girls, they’re crafty, poppin’ up like shadows, then poof—gone! Saw one t’other night, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag like she owned the bloody curb. “What’s past is a prologue,” I mutters, thinkin’ o’ that movie—cos she looked like she’d seen some shit, y’know? Made me happy, that—real guts, not some fake dolly. But then—ugh!—this fat punter stumbles up, all sweaty, grabbin’ at her. Made me mad, precious, proper mad! Wanted to claw his eyes out, but nah, I ain’t no hero.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I headed to the little ice cream shop on Hamngatan. They have the best flavors! I got a scoop of raspberry and a scoop of vanilla. Heaven! But then, I dropped it. Yup, right on the pavement. I was like, “Seriously? Is this a joke?”

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