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I reckon it’s all ‘bout connection, tho. Like Bill Murray whisperin’, “The more you know who you are…”—sexual-massage kinda strips ya down, figuratively *and* literal-like! Ain’t no cargo manifest for that, just vibes. I seen some parlors—shady ones—charge $50, then upsell ya ‘til yer broke! Pissed me off, man! But the good ones? Oh, they’re gold! Once heard a gal in Reno say it cured her trucker’s back *and* her bad attitude—talk ‘bout a two-fer!

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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.”

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