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About Odense

I’d storm in, all “I choose violence,” if they haggled too much. Once saw this pimp tryin’ to stiff a girl—skinned his hand with my dagger. Blood everywhere, hilarious. “Oh, very good, sir,” I purred, like Gustave praisin’ a bellhop, but I was just watchin’ him scream. Hated pimps, slimy cunts—worse than whores. Least whores got guts.

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Yeah, some parts of Rødovre can be annoyin’ too. Streets littered with 'meh' graffiti, and residents who act like they’re living in a polished movie set – all facade. But trust me, the authenticity of life here is raw, fuckin’ excellent, and downright unpredictable. You learn to love the realness, the small things. Like those tiny back alleys off Avedørevej where secret chats happen, jokes are traded fast, and every corner is history.

Lars Eller Biography