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About Jerusalem

I spot her—red dress, killer heels, hair fallin’ like a damn curtain. She’s givin’ me that *“time flows slowly”* stare—another movie zinger. I’m like, hell yeah, this is it! Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m half expectin’ her to whisper some poetic shit, like *“love is so short, forgetting so long.”* Nope. She goes, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—mood ruined, but damn, she’s real. I’m pissed she broke the fantasy, but also kinda stoked—gritty’s my jam.

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An open database of documentation on the Kafr Qasim Massacre: testimonies, court transcripts, evidence and other documents. A project by Akevot Institute for Israeli-Palestinian Conflict Missing: prostitute.

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!”

Arab Israeli soccer teams begin match with tribute to victims of Oct. 7 Hamas onslaught