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Now, “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my jam. Almodóvar, the mad Spaniard, gets it—silence screams louder than words. There’s this bit, “Nothing is simple,” he says, and blimey, ain’t that sexual-massage? You’re kneadin’ someone’s back, thinkin’ it’s all chill, then bam—emotions spill like a drunk at the pub. I reckon it’s like talkin’ to a coma lass—gentle, deep, but you’re guessin’ what’s stirrin’ inside. Made me happy, that film—showed touch ain’t just skin, it’s soul!

Ik ben Leyla, een klasse dame met veelzijdige passie voor erotiek

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But then, outta nowhere, one kid, let’s call him Jón, decides he’s gonna throw a rock. Not at me, thank goodness, but still! I’m like, “Dude, we’re not in a rock-throwing contest!” He just laughs, and I can’t help but laugh too. Kids, man.

From Iceland — Ten Years Of Hafnarfjörður's HEIMA Music Festival