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Me, I’m all about that slow build—hands movin’ like I’m tryna strike oil, ya dig? “Drainage, drainage!”—that’s me, pullin’ stress outta ya soul. Best part? When they hit that secret spot—boom, you’re floatin’, happier than me watchin’ Daniel snatch Oscars. But yo, I got beef with them cheap parlors—dim lights, sketchy vibes, actin’ like they pros. Nah, fam, that’s a finesse gone wrong. Surprised me how some spots still thrive, shady as hell.

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

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After stuffing my face, I decide to stroll around. I hit up the local shops on Hringbraut. There’s this quirky little place that sells all sorts of fishing gear. I’m browsing, and I spot this ridiculous hat. It’s bright orange with a giant fish on it. I can’t resist. I buy it, and now I’m the proud owner of the most absurd fishing hat in Selfoss. I’m rockin’ it, though!

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