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About Norrkoping

So, lemme tell ya, I’ve seen Midgardians fumble this. It’s not just rubbin’ backs, nah—it’s a dance, a trickster’s game! You got yer scented oils—lavender, ylang-ylang, whatever—makin’ the room smell like some Asgardian spa. Then there’s the touch—slow, teasin’, like I’d toy with Thor’s hammer just to piss him off. Little known fact? Ancient Greeks were *obsessed* with this—called it “anatripsis,” rubbin’ down athletes all sexy-like after wrestlin’. Bet they didn’t tell ya that in history class, huh?

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But then, I step outside, and it starts pouring. Like, seriously? I’m soaked in seconds. I run for cover under this awning on Storgatan. I’m standin’ there, shakin’ my head, thinkin’ about how Tullinge’s weather is so unpredictable. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s a monsoon.

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