Lily Selfoss Prostitute ❤️

About Reykjavik

Me, I’d be a lousy hooker—too goofy, prolly trip over my own flippers! Oh, oh—imagine me goin’, “Hey, wanna party?” and they’re like, “Uh, is that a starfish?” Total flop! But srsly, these chicas, they see stuff—dark stuff, wild stuff. Like, in the movie, “Look at my shit!”—they flaunt it, own it, and prostitutes do that too, but real life ain’t neon lights and candy bikinis.

„Mað­ur lít­ur stund­um upp og sér að það eru bara jakka­föt í kring­um mann“

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After a while, I finally hook a fish! It’s a beauty, too. I’m all pumped, ready to show it off. But just as I’m about to reel it in, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Jón. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the market on Aðalstræti!” I’m thinkin’, “Really? I’m kinda busy here!” But then he mentions fresh fish tacos. I’m sold. I let the fish go—sorry, buddy!—and head over.

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