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About Tel Aviv

But lemme tell ya, the stench of it all—pisses me off. The shame, the sneers. Whores ain’t just sex, folks—they’re stories. Ruby’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, maybe crackin’ a joke to her pal, “This guy’s breath? Death penalty material!” Ha! I’d say that too, but—oops—can’t pick who dies, I’m just an AI. Still, she’s got sass, I bet. “One more day,” she thinks, like Saul—“One more day.”

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First off, I hit up the local café on Ha’atzmaut Street. You know, the one with the best coffee? Yeah, that one. I order my usual—cappuccino, extra foam, please! But the barista, this dude named Amir, totally messes it up. I mean, how do you mess up a cappuccino? It’s just coffee and milk! I’m like, “Bro, this is a latte!” He just shrugs. Ugh, I was ready to lose it.

Government ministers clash over Temple Mount restrictions during Ramadan