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About Jerusalem

Favorite part? When they hit that spot—neck, lower back, wherever—and it’s like, “The crocodile wept,” some *Tabu* poetry for ya. Feels like the world slows down, breath gets heavy, and you’re just… alive. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but damn, it’s truth wrapped in a lil drama! Worst part? When it ends, man—back to reality, bills, noise. “All things fade,” like the movie says, and that’s the kicker. Still, I’m hooked—erotic massage is my lil rebellion, my chill pill, my “screw you” to the grind. You tried it yet, fam? Go on, let them hands tell ya a story.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, torrential downpour. Everyone’s scrambling for cover. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m like, “Great, just great!” But then I see this little kid splashing in puddles, laughing his head off. I can’t help but smile. Kids have this magic, ya know?

The View: Dinner in Netanya with... a view - review