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About Jerusalem

So, picture this—I’m hoppin’ down the street, ears flappin’, lookin’ for a carrot, when bam! I stumble into this shady spot. Neon lights blinkin’, girls leanin’ on corners, smokin’ cigs. One chick’s like, “Hey, bunny, you lost?” I’m like, nah, just cruisin’, babe! Made me laugh—me, Bugs, lost? Pfft. But it got me thinkin’—these gals, they’re hustlin’, survivin’. Kinda badass, kinda sad. Reminds me of Penny Lane in “Almost Famous,” y’know? “We are not groupies, we’re Band Aids!”—except, nah, these girls ain’t here for the music.

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Then, I hit up the ancient cemetery. Yeah, I know, sounds morbid, but hear me out. It’s peaceful there. I’m walking among the tombstones, and I spot this one that’s all covered in flowers. It’s for a rabbi or something. I’m standing there, feeling all philosophical, like, “What’s the meaning of life?” Then I trip over a rock. Classic me, right?

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