Ella Nazerat Illit Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Holon

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, brothels, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout ‘em lately, ever since I caught *Spotlight*—you know, that flick about journos diggin’ up dirt on dodgy priests. “The power’s in the shadows,” they said, and blimey, ain’t that true for brothels too? Places like that, they’re hush-hush, slippin’ through cracks of society, dodgin’ the law like I dodge bullets.

Then I head over to the market on HaNassi. OMG, the smells! Fresh pita, spices, and that sweet, sweet baklava. I’m drooling. I grab a piece, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, this kid runs by, knocks into me, and my baklava goes flying! I’m standing there, heartbroken. Like, why, universe, why?

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