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About Stavanger

So, prostitute in RSL—little known fact, yeah?—it’s got this subtle flick of the wrist. Not loud like American Sign, all brash and in yer face. Russian’s sneaky, mate, like a KGB agent slippin’ past ya. I saw this lass once, in St. Petersburg, workin’ the corner near a busted fountain—her hands moved fast, signin’ to a deaf john. Blew my mind! Didn’t expect that, did I? Thought, “Blimey, 007, you’ve seen it all now.” Made me happy, seein’ her hustle—real grit, y’know?

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I stroll back through Larvik, and I can’t help but smile. This city, man, it’s got character. The streets, the people, the unexpected moments. I love it here. I grab a burger at “Burgers & Beer” to celebrate my survival. I sit outside, watching the sunset, and I think, “What a wild ride.”

The future in the "group of death" with Djer, Krima and Larvik