Leah Bu Eina Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tel Aviv

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this chick—whore, right? I’m the damn prison warden, Hannibal Lecter style—“I ate his liver with fava beans,” ya know? So, sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout her, she’s a bloody enigma, like somethin’ outta *Goodbye to Language*. “Words don’t mean a thing,” Godard says, and fuck, ain’t that her? Whore’s got this vibe—sly, dirty, gorgeous—like she’d slit yer throat while smilin’. Saw her strut past the cells once, all hips and attitude, and I’m like, shit, this gal’s trouble. Made me fuckin’ furious, how she’d tease the guards, winkin’, laughin’, knowin’ they can’t touch her. Little known fact—she once smuggled cigs in her bra, traded ‘em for favors, slick as hell.

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After that, I hit up the park near the Bu-eina Community Center. It’s a nice spot to chill. I plopped down on a bench, just takin’ it all in. Kids were playin’, couples were walkin’ hand in hand, and I was just there, feelin’ all the feels. But then, this group of teenagers starts blastin’ music from a portable speaker. Like, really? I’m tryin’ to enjoy nature here! I wanted to yell, “Turn it down, you hooligans!” But I just rolled my eyes instead.

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