Nora Ashkelon Brothel ❤️

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So, brothels – been around forever, haven’t they? Ancient Rome, *lupanaria*, wolf dens they called ‘em – prostitutes howlin’ like wolves, ha! Imagine that, eh? Dodgy blokes sneakin’ in, togas all a-flutter. Fast forward, Victorian times – London’s full of ‘em, hidden behind posh curtains. Little fact for ya: some had secret tunnels! Tunnels, mate! For MPs and toffs to scarper quick. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ of Chas Tenenbaum, all stressed, runnin’ from his own mess – “I need to get outta here!”

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A twin of the Ashkelon statue was recently excavated in Roman Beth-Shean—a larger-than-life-size marble statue (head missing) of a cuirassed soldier, probably an emperor, with the same .

First off, I hit up the local café on Ben Gurion Street. You know, the one with the best shakshuka? I was ready to devour that like it was my last meal. But guess what? They were out of eggs! Like, how do you run out of eggs? I mean, c’mon! I was so mad, I almost threw my coffee at the wall. But I didn’t. I just sulked in my corner, scrolling through my phone like a sad puppy.

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