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About Copenhagen

But then—boom—anger hits. Some punters treat ‘em like dirt, don’t even brush before a gig. Disgustin’, right? Makes me wanna yell, “This is not the way!” Like in *A History of Violence*—quiet life, then chaos. Escorts got that too—calm chats, then dodgy blokes. One told me—get this—bloke paid her in fake gold teeth once! Swear, nearly spat my tea laughin’. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, escorts sometimes doubled as tooth-pullers. Wild, eh? No NHS then, just pluckin’ molars for a quid.

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I dig wandering along the harbor near Værksbroen Bridge – the view is raw, kinda like life itself. River Glimmer flows past, twistin’ and turnin’ erry day like the unpredictable human mind. Its banks? Littered with quirky benches and sculptures that make you ponder – and sometimes get mad when a breeze knocks your sandwich off, ugh, so annoying!

Tombs and skeletons on paper money