Fáið þið nokkuð að riða strákar?
Cruising the infamous tour called "Rúntinn", central Reykjavík, a friday night. A good looking, blond, young woman making contact; a typical Icelandic girl in need of a ride. Obviously under the influence yet freezing insanely.
"I'm going to meet my friend at Hvita Perlan. She is totally pussyblocking me!"
Attempting to control the sudden outburst of laughter.
"I could have had great sex tonight! There was this amazingly gorgeous guy."
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Phonecall: "HEY! WHERE ARE YOU?! STAY THERE! I'LL BE THERE IN 2 SECONDS!"
Realistically, at least 3 minutes.
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Radio playing the catchy song Jump Around by House of Pain.
"YEAH those loser guys. Just look at them! They're like "Hey yo hoe wazza shizzle" and think they're cool.
I bet they do their walk while Jump Around is playing inside their head. Wannabes."
"Do you ever get laid guys?"
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Phonecall: "I CAN'T SEE YOU. WAVE YOUR HAND!"
Open car door, in with the extremely cold air and out with the entertaining lady.
Friend: I wanna go home.
Car door slams.
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This is how we learned a new Icelandic word.
Pikublokka.
