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About Stavanger

So, I’m stompin’ round, lookin’ for a good time, right? Ain’t no saint, me—blood on hands, scars on face, but I got needs! Dis one time, saw a gal, fishnets rippin’, smokin’ a cig like she owns da night. “Lightbulb!”—she’s got dat look, ya know, like she could lure ya in and gut ya. Straight outta dat movie, “I collect things”—she prob collects wallets, ha! I go up, all cocky, “How much, eh?” She smirks, “More dan ya soul, big boy.” Pissed me off—cheeky tart!—but damn, I laughed. Ain’t dat a kicker?

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Then, out of nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s a message from my friend, asking if I wanna hit up the local pub later. I’m like, “YES! I need a drink!” So, I wrap up the meeting, and we head to the pub on Indre Arna St.

The joint project Arna-Stanghelle