No Time for Titles

So I got my wireless to work over here. I sacrificed a couple of shots of tequila to the computer spirits, but I think it was the chocolate from the minibar that did it. Whatever, it worked. I spent the day today wandering around in a haze in the bright sunlight with 5 million other tourists celebrating Icelandic Independence Day. There were all these free concerts out on a big lawn/plaza area, and everyone was sitting outside of cafes and drinking and chatting. On my way walking into the downtown area I passed this group of kids rocking out:

I have discovered skyr over here. What is skyr, you might ask? Is it a potent Icelandic beverage? Is it a new post-Bjork band? No. It is an addictive, tasty treat, and I have to stop eating it, BUT I CAN'T. It's kind of like yogurt on steroids. You know that super delicious greek yogurt, Fage? It's like that but sweeter and thicker and creamier. I'm telling you, it's the crack of dairy products. I can't wait to try the blueberry flavor. But I have to stop eating it. Tomorrow. I'll stop tomorrow.
OK. I have to get ready to go out now. It's midnight, but perfectly light out. Here's a picture of what midnight last night looked like.