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About Tel Aviv

Growls loud! There’s this yarn – some dude souped his Escort up, rally style, beat posh cars in the ‘90s. Underdog shit, love that! “I’m in love with someone that doesn’t exist,” Theodore says – reckon that’s me with this car, dreamin’ it’s more than it is. Quirky thought, huh? Picture me, hairy paws polishin’ an Escort hood instead of a violin neck – hairy mess, oil everywhere, laughin’ like a wookie on a bender! Rarrgh! Surprised me how it’s a cult fave now, car nerds droolin’ over rusty relics. Escorts got soul, mate, like my violins singin’ – rough, real, alive. What ya reckon?

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Then, the moment hits. The crowd goes wild! The bull’s out, and I’m feelin’ that adrenaline rush. I’m in my zone, you know? I’m dancin’ around, waving my banderillas like a madman. The bull charges, and I’m like, “Let’s do this!” But then, outta nowhere, it trips on its own feet. I swear, I almost fell over laughin’. The crowd’s crackin’ up, and I’m just tryin’ to keep it cool.

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