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Little known fact, tho—didja know some prostitutes back in the day used code words? Like, in the 70s, they’d say “trick” for a john, keepin it lowkey from the pigs. Sneaky shit, right? I’m lovin that hustle, that grind—it’s badass! Makes me happy as hell, seein women outsmart the system. But then—BAM—this dude rolls up, all sleazy, tryna haggle her price down. I’m pissed, yo! Like, “Man’s not hot, he’s a clown!” She shuts him down quick, tho— “I’m not here to play games,” she snaps, and I’m screamin inside, “YAAAS, SLAY!”

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Next, I wander down to the East Iceland Heritage Museum. I’m all about that local history, you know? I’m checking out the exhibits, and there’s this one about the fishing industry. I’m like, “Wow, these folks really knew how to catch fish.” But then, I see a display about the infamous Egilsstadir fish market. Apparently, it was a big deal back in the day. I’m thinking, “I’d rather be at a fish market than stuck in a boring meeting.”

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