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But ugh, the nerve of some johns—makes me mad! Bargainin’ like it’s a flea market? “Ten bucks enough?” No, you cheapskate, it ain’t! I’d smack ‘em myself, but I’m too busy yellin’ at these kids. And the stigma—ooh, don’t get me started! Society actin’ all high and mighty, like they ain’t got urges. Pisses me off—total hypocrisy! “That’s a bingo!”—Landa’d say it, pointin’ at their fake halos.

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So, I’m cruisin’ down Hafnargata, just vibin’ to my tunes. The sun’s out, and I’m feelin’ good. Then BAM! I see this cute little café, Café Mokka. I mean, who can resist a good cup of coffee? Not me! I pop in, order a latte, and the barista? Total legend. He’s like, “You want whipped cream?” I’m like, “Dude, yes!” So, I’m sippin’ this heavenly drink, and life’s good.

From Iceland — My Memories Of The NATO Base, Or Why I Got A Bad Feeling About This