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About Grindavik

What pisses me off? The hypocrisy—blokes payin’ her, then preachin’ purity. Bollocks! What makes me happy? Her laugh—rough, real, cuts through the noise. Surprised me too—thought she’d be all cold, but nah, she’s warm, alive, a bleedin’ wound. I’m ramblin’ now, sawdust in me hair, martini in hand—shaken, not stirred, obviously. Whore’s a puzzle, a masterpiece, a right mess. Like me workbench—chaotic, but it works. Oi, fancy a pint? Gotta tell ya more about her garter trick—fuckin’ legend!