Addison Stavanger Brothel ❤️

About Tromso

Sarcasm time—oh, such a noble trade, screwing for scraps. Still, beats kissing Tywin’s boots. “Lobby boy!” I’d yell, like Gustave, but at some trembling wench. Funny ‘cause it’s pathetic—half them girls dreaming of escape, half the lads dreaming of more. Disorderly? Good—my head’s a mess, brothels are worse. Spill wine, spill secrets, spill blood—same diff. You’d love it or loathe it, but you’d not forget it. Now sod off—I’m done.

Cop charged of pimping activities acquitted

"Only a fraction of the prostitution in Stavanger takes place here at the quay. There is also the internet, newspapers and the telephone.

Then, I decide to chill at the Stavanger Cathedral. It’s this old, beautiful place, and I’m just sittin’ there, tryin’ to calm down. I’m thinkin’ about life, you know? How I’m a matador, and I’m supposed to be brave and all that. But today? Today’s a mess. I’m about to give up when this little kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Are you a real matador?” I’m like, “Yeah, kid, I am!” And he’s all starry-eyed. It’s cute, man. Made me smile.

Vestlandet, Norway, Is ‘Oh, My God’ Country (Published 2019)