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About Kopavogur

I was SHOOK first time I heard bout it—thought it was some shady backroom deal. Turns out, it’s old as dirt—Ancient Greeks was gettin’ freaky with oils, callin’ it “healin’ touch.” Ain’t that a trip? Little fact for ya: them Egyptians used scented oils too, swearin’ it woke up they spirits—prolly they loins too, halleluyer! Got me thinkin’, “Is this allowed to feel THIS good?” Made me happy as a pig in mud—till I saw the price! $150 for an hour? Lordt, my wallet screamed, “I’m too broke for this fancy foolishness!”

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So, I’m hammering away, trying to get this barrel done for some fancy restaurant on Strandgata. I’m in the zone, right? Then, BAM! My hammer slips, and I smash my thumb. Ouch! I’m hopping around like a madman, cursing in Icelandic and English. “Þetta er ekki í lagi!” (This is not okay!) My buddy Jón comes over, laughing his head off. “You should’ve seen your face!” Thanks, Jón. Real supportive.

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