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About Reykjavik

But, man, some stuff pisses me off. These scumbags out there beatin’ on ‘em, thinkin’ they’re tough? I’d body-slam those punks into next week, brother! Seen it too many times—girls lookin’ scared, bruised up. Ain’t right. Reminds me of Viggo in the movie, y’know, “How do you live with it?”—that quiet rage. I feel that, dude, deep in my gut.

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We head over, and it’s packed. There’s music, food stalls, and people dancing. I’m feeling the energy. I grab a hot dog (classic Icelandic street food, right?) and it’s amazing. I’m just standing there, eating, and soaking it all in.

From Iceland — From Hot Tub Dream To Big Screen: The Borgarnes Film Freaks Make It Happen