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Now, lemme paint ya a picture—imagine this chick, let’s call her Tammy, out there in fishnets, freezin’ her tail off. She’s tough as nails, but inside? Scared spitless. Reminds me o’ WALL-E, all alone, stackin’ trash, hopin’ for somethin’ better. “Plant!” he’d chirp, holdin’ that lil’ green sprout—hope, y’know? Tammy’s got hope too, maybe for a kid or a way out. Makes me wanna holler, “You’re enough, sugar!”—but she don’t hear it.

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Then, I head over to the local park, which is basically a slice of heaven. I plop down on a bench, and this old man starts chatting me up. He’s telling me stories about the town, and I’m just nodding along, pretending I’m not secretly Googling “Egilsstadir history” in my head. He’s got this wild beard and a twinkle in his eye. I swear, he’s seen some things.

Icelandic Waters Watched by Drone