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About Gothenburg

Happy? Once. Guy named Tony—hands like a goddam bear. Cracked my spine, felt alive. Surprised me—thought all this was hippie nonsense. But usually? Waste of cash. Sticky fingers, awkward boners—kill me now. Fun fact: Thailand’s got “happy ending” joints everywhere. Locals laugh at dumb tourists payin’ extra. Idiots. I’d rather chop wood than let some stranger grope me. “Whether I live or die, it’s all the same.” That’s *Oldboy* truth—sexual-massage don’t change shit. Hate it. Next question.

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Then we hit up the local market. Oh man, the smells! Fresh bread, spices, and something that smelled like a mix of heaven and confusion. I’m trying to explain the importance of the market, but all I can think about is food. I’m starving! I grab a kebab from a stall. Best decision ever. I’m munching away, and the tourists are looking at me like I’m a savage. But hey, I’m a guide, not a saint!

Boy Meets Wall: Hanging Out with Jens S Jensen