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About Petah Tikva

I’m cruisin’, right? See this gal, smokin’ hot, leanin’ on a lamppost. Thinkin’, “She’s got that glow, like Amélie’s gnome.” I roll up, chill, “Hey, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends, Neo, you payin’?” Haha, sassy! Love that, got me grininn’. But then—bam—cop car rolls by, heart’s racin’, “Whoa, close call.” Gotta be sharp, man, laws ain’t playin’.

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So, I step outta my apartment on HaShalom Street, and it’s like the sun is mocking me. It’s blazing hot, like, “Hey, you wanna melt?” I’m sweating buckets, and I’m already late for a meeting at the local café, Café Netivot. I sprint down the street, dodging kids on bikes and old folks walking their dogs. Seriously, why do they walk so slow? I’m like, “C’mon, people, I got a game to design!”

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