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About Jerusalem

So, she orders a whiskey, neat—ballsyy, right? I’m like, “Girl, you’re trouble.” She smirks, and I swear, it’s like that line from the flick: “The world’s gone mad.” She’s chaos incarnate, dahling! Tips me a crumpled twenty, smells like cheap perfume and regret. I’m pissed—why’s she gotta flaunt it? But also, kinda lovin’ it—whore’s got guts! Little known fact: back in the day, whores ran bars in secret. Yup, Prohibition times—servin’ hooch, dodgin’ cops. This chick? She’s that legacy, reborn.

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On my way home, I pass by the market on Rechov HaYarden. It’s packed! People everywhere, yelling about prices. I’m just trying to get through, and this guy bumps into me. I’m like, “Yo, watch it!” He just shrugs. Rude, right?

Black is the new orange: 30% of settlers are now Haredim