Sadie Daliyat Al Karmel Whore ❤️❤️

About Tel Aviv

So, here’s the deal—I knew this chick, right? Street name was Candy, real name probly somethin’ lame like Carol. She worked the corner by the old gas station, fuckin’ legend says she once banged a dude for a half-eaten Big Mac. Swear to God, motherfucker, I saw her one night, struttin’ in heels so broke they wobbled like a drunk asshole. Made me laugh, shit! “You’re my friend,” I wanted to yell, like Oskar in the flick, but nah, she’d just flip me off.

Follow BBC on:

But then, just when I think the day’s winding down, I trip over a rock. Classic me, right? I go tumbling, and my kebab goes flying! I’m lying there, face down, and all I can think is, “Not the kebab!” People rush over, and I’m like, “I’m fine, just my dignity is gone.” They help me up, and we all burst out laughing. It’s moments like these that make it all worth it.

A taste of Druze culture and cuisine in Daliat el-Carmel