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Reckon she’s seen more drama than Farhadi’s lens, y’know? Bet she’s got tales—bloke proposin’ mid-shag, or some nutter payin’ in Monopoly cash! “This isn’t a game!” she’d yell, tossin’ it back, movie-style. Love that fire, baby! She’s no pushover, got her own code—won’t snog on the mouth, says it’s “too personal.” Cracked me up, that did—shaggin’s fine, but a peck’s sacred? Far out!

Segja Car­bfix ekki gjald­þrota þrátt fyr­ir bók­fært núll­virði

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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.”

From Iceland — Go East! A Trip To The Wild And Imaginative Eastfjords