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About Tel Aviv

So. Picture this. A brothel’s like. Cobb’s dream heist. You walk in. Boom! Lights dim. Girls everywhere. Smells like cheap perfume. And desperation. “You’re waiting. For a train!” I yell in my head. But nah. It’s just me. Staring at velvet curtains. Thinking. Is this real? Or a trick? Kinda thrilling. Kinda freaky.

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But then, I see this group of teens, and they’re up to no good. I can feel my blood boilin’. They’re spray-painting some wall. I march over, all tough guy. “Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?” They freeze, lookin’ like deer in headlights. One of ‘em, a kid named Samir, goes, “We’re just expressin’ ourselves!” I’m like, “Express yourself somewhere else, man!”

Newly-Released Documents Shed Light on Israeli Massacre of Palestinians in Kafr Qasem