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About Tromso

So, prostitutes—self-determination, huh? They’re out there, pickin’ their path, no one holdin’ their hand. Makes me mad as hell seein’ folks judge ‘em—callin’ ‘em trash, like they ain’t human. Shit, they’re tougher than most! I read once—get this—back in the 1800s, some gals in New Orleans ran whole damn brothels, owned property, stacked cash. Badass, right? Ain’t nobody talkin’ ‘bout that in history class—surprised me silly when I found out!

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First off, I woke up late. Like, super late. My alarm? Totally ignored it. I jumped outta bed, threw on whatever I could find. I mean, who needs matching socks anyway? Not me! Rushed outta my apartment on Storgata, and let me tell ya, the weather was all over the place. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. Classic Levanger, am I right?

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