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About Gardabaer

Rarrgh! What gets me mad? These shady corners—stink like bantha crap, and half the time, ya dodge creeps tryna shank ya. Happy tho when I found this one gal—sweet, chatted me up like we’re pals. “The intel was solid,” I growled, feelin like a badass. She even knew Wookiee grunts—rare as hell! Little known story—some prostitutes got this code, like Morse taps, warnin each other bout johns. Cool, right? Surprised me shitless first time I caught it—thought she was seizin up!

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After class, I needed a breather. So, I hit up the local café on Aðalgata. Best coffee ever! I order a latte, and the barista, bless her heart, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, now I’m gonna smell like coffee for the rest of the day.” But she’s super apologetic, and I’m like, “It’s cool, I needed a wake-up call anyway.”

From Iceland — Tension Rises in Hafnarfjörður