Abigail Nykobing Mors Whore ❤️❤️

About Copenhagen

So, whores—grubby, loud, in your face. Hate ‘em. They’re like glitter—stick around, can’t shake ‘em. One time, saw this gal, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at some dude. Made me laugh, then pissed me off. Why’s she hollerin’? Get a grip, lady. “I don’t remember anything,” Verónica mumbles in the movie. Whore prolly don’t either—too many nights, too many jerks. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores ran towns. Yep, owned saloons, called shots. Wild, huh? Surprised me, honestly—thought they just, y’know, laid there.

Nykøbing main town on Mors

There’s also the river Mors, flowin' right by the town. I’d sit for hours along its banks. Kayakin’ sometimes. Drivin’ slowly and just thinking, sometimes my head spins like “I ate his liver with fava beans.” I mean it’s bizarre but in a good way – nature and city moshing together in raw, honest energy.

Northern lights photographer of the year 2022 – in pictures