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About Gardabaer

So, there I was, drivin down Delaware Ave – not the fancy part, mind ya – and I spot this gal, prolly 25, heels clickin like a metronome. Made me sad, folks, real sad. She’s out there, freezin her tail off, and I’m thinkin, “What’s her deal?” Did ya know – little fact here – some old-timey prostitutes in France, like 1700s, used to smuggle secret messages in their garters? Spies in stockings! Ain’t that wild? Bet she don’t know that, standin there smokin a cig.

„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.

From Iceland — The Icelandic Roundup: Homemade Bombs In Selfoss And Knife Violence