So for roughly the last 2 months, I have been a whirlwind of activity travelling the length and breadth of Denmark, throughout Russia, as well as shenanigans in London and Istanbul.
I promise I will get back to being a not-shit blogger and update here with all my recent escapades and felonies (nb. may or may not actually include felonies) within the next few weeks (with exams fast approaching, I think I will suddenly be much more motivated to remember my glorious gypsy days).
But for now, I leave you with an embarrassing anecdote from earlier this week.
I'm always impressed when I manage to decipher things in Danish, so when I found myself at a checkout at the supermarket scanning the magazine covers, I got a small thrill when I read "7 Days of Great Sex" amongst a sea of unintelligible stories.
The magazine was located between a Cosmopolitan and another bright cover featuring a heavily airbrushed and pouting presumably famous person, so I picked up the magazine and opened it to see if this was a Danish publication.
Turns out, it was porn.
Despite slamming that thing shut, I'm assured that the old man behind me got a good view of what I was reading. The old man who was most likely Danish, and was completely aware of the magazine that I so casually flicked open.
Moral of this story: don't open any magazine in a public location if you aren't 200% sure it isn't porn.
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