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About Gothenburg

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

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But then, bam! The bull charges. I barely dodged it. My heart’s in my throat. I’m sweating bullets. I mean, who knew a bull could be so fast? I’m not even sure how I managed to stick those banderillas in. It was like a dance, a crazy, life-or-death tango.

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