Taylor Lod Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Jerusalem

Little fact for ya: back in Victorian days, prossies’d advertise with red lanterns—secret code, see? Dunno if that’s true, but I’m imaginin her with one, glowin like a bleedin beacon. “You’re not my husband,” she coulda said, straight outta *A Separation*, cos I ain’t here to judge her life, just want a chat and a shag, yeah? Surprised me how sharp she was—none o’ that vacant stare bollocks. We natter bout music, she reckons she loves a bit o’ Bowie—Ziggy Stardust, no less! I’m thinkin, “Blimey, this bird’s got taste!”

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So, I get back to the shop, and I’m ready to finish my barrels. But then, I realize I’m outta wood. Like, are you kidding me? I gotta trek over to the lumber yard on Rehov HaGolan. It’s a hike, but I’m determined. I’m walkin’ there, and I’m thinkin’ about how Lod is such a mix of old and new. You got ancient ruins, and then boom, modern buildings everywhere. It’s wild!

‘We’re not interested in mingling’: Mixed city of Lod still on edge after unrest