Megan Saudarkrokur Brothel ❤️

About Reykjavik

Oi, listen up, you lot! Brothels, eh? Filthy dens of sin, stinking of cheap wine and cheaper morals. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I’ve seen it all—trust me, I’d burn ‘em down faster than King’s Landing if I could. Cold disdain? Oh, I’ve got buckets of it for these places. “I choose violence,” I’d snarl, kicking the doors in, watching the rats scatter—clients and whores alike.

Sauðárkrókur

I hit the streets, and it’s chilly, but not too bad. I stroll down to the harbor, and wow, the view is insane! The mountains in the background, the water glistening like diamonds. I’m snapping pics like a tourist, but who cares? I’m living my best life. Then, outta nowhere, I see this group of kids playing soccer on the street. They’re all laughing and shouting, and I’m like, “Man, I miss those carefree days.”

Polar bear shot dead in Iceland