Ada Egilsstadir Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Seltjarnarnes

Look, whores ain’t saints, but who is? They’re scrappy, messy, human—way more than them greedy bastards up top! Little fact: in old France, they called ‘em “filles de joie”—girls of joy! Joy, my ass, more like warriors! I’m gettin’ hoarse screamin’ bout this, but damn, it’s truth! Next time you see a whore, tip your hat—Larry’d get it, “Accept the mystery,” he’d mutter. Me? I’m just fuckin’ proud they stick it to the man! Billionaires should not exist—whores should! Period!

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So, I’m like, “Get it together, dude.” I shake it off and keep walking. The air is crisp, and the mountains are all around. I mean, have you seen the views? It’s like nature’s own Instagram filter. But then, I hear this loud honking. I look up, and it’s a bus. A BUS! It’s the only bus in town, and it’s late. Like, really late. I’m thinking, “C’mon, Egilsstadir, get your act together!”

Trippin’ in East Iceland