Mia Reykjavik Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Akureyri

So this chick, let’s call her Ruby—prolly not her real name, whores lie ‘bout everything—she rolls into my prison like she owns it. Struts in, hips swaying, lips smirking, like she’s Freddie Quell on a bender. I’m thinkin’, “What’s your angle, sweetheart?” ‘Cause everybody’s got one. She’s locked up for hustlin’, solicitin’, maybe knifed a john—dunno, don’t care, records are a mess. Point is, she’s a pro. Not just at screwin’—at screwin’ *people*. Got this vibe, y’know? Like she could charm the bars off this dump.

What is the Reykjavik Grapevine?

After that, I’m feeling a bit peckish. I hit up a hot dog stand. Best hot dogs ever! I mean, they put everything on it. Ketchup, mustard, crispy onions, and this special sauce. I’m in heaven. I sit down on a bench, and this seagull swoops in. I’m like, “Not today, bird!” But it’s too late. The hot dog’s gone. I’m just sitting there, staring at the empty wrapper like it’s a betrayal.

Icelandair Expands Season on Pittsburgh-Reykjavik Route