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About Tel Aviv

Hey pal, so I’m an accountant, right? Crunchin’ numbers all day, borin’ as hell, but then—bam!—sexual-massage pops into my brain like a freakin’ tax loophole! I’m Tina Fey, snarky as shit, “I can see Russia from my house!” and lemme tell ya, this ain’t no gentle rubdown. Sexual-massage? It’s wild, it’s messy—like Son of Saul messy, ya know? “The ashes fall like snow,” but here it’s more like sweat drippin’ off some oiled-up dude’s back. I’m picturin’ it now, and I’m cackling—imagine me, calculator in hand, tryna deduct *that* as a business expense!

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Then, I decide to swing by the local art supply store on Main St. I’m lookin’ for some new textures for my projects. I walk in, and it’s like heaven. Paints, brushes, all the good stuff. But then, I see the prices. I’m like, “Are you kidding me?!” I mean, who do they think I am? Picasso? I’m just a texture artist tryin’ to make it, man.

Former hostage Arbel Yehoud says captors threatened to kill her if IDF approached