The only advice I’d seek from Varg Vikernes is how to best incinerate churches or how to survive if I’m ever convicted of killing one of my friends and wind up behind bars for years.
I’d never go to the man for advice on affairs of the heart, but Varg has taken it upon himself to inform us all on getting a good woman.
Mind you, Varg met his hate-mongering wife, Marie Cachet, married her, and knocked her up all after he was imprisoned.
For Varg, finding a broad merely entailed breaking the law and eventually gaining notoriety as a jailed prisoner. That wife’s a groupie, essentially.
So, I’d dismissed any advice Varg would have to offer on love outright. Despite the fact that he’s a racist piece of shit.
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