Delilah Kafr Qasim Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Jerusalem

Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, listen, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout this broad, right, a prostitute, workin’ the streets like it’s nothin’. Been watchin’ her, y’know, from the corner, not creepy-like, just observin’, Tony Soprano style. She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt so short you’d think it’s a napkin. Reminds me of that flick I love, *The Diving Bell and the Butterfly*—y’know, that French guy, trapped in his head, blinkin’ out his story? “I’m alive, but I’m stuck,” that vibe. This chick, she’s stuck too, but she’s movin’, hustlin’, dodgin’ cops like it’s a dance.

Bibliography

Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I sprint over to the corner of HaNesher and HaTzofim. A car just smashed into a lamppost! I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” Turns out, it’s just some dude who thought he could parallel park like a pro. Spoiler alert: he can’t. I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, but man, I’m fuming. “Dude, you’re in Kafr-Qasim, not a stunt show!”

My grandmother was murdered in Kafr Qasim, now these are my demands