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About Malmo

Once heard this story—some dude fell asleep mid-massage, snorin’ loud! Masseuse just kept goin’, rubbin’ his back like, “Whatever, bro.” Cracked me up! Eat my shorts, that’s gold! Oh, and the oils? They mix ‘em weird—lavender, ylang-ylang, what’s that even mean? Smells dope, tho. I’d exaggerate and say it’s like angels touchin’ ya, but nah—more like a hot chick who knows her stuff.

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Then, I get another call. This lady from Östra Långgatan is losing her mind. “My coffee machine exploded!” she screams. I’m like, “Lady, it’s not the end of the world.” But she’s all, “You don’t understand! I need my coffee!” I mean, I get it. Coffee is life. But c’mon, it’s not like she’s in a war zone.

Krista Degeest Moves to Aachen