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About Beersheba

So I’m down Soho way, right, dodgy corner, smells like piss an’ regret. This bird, she’s standin there, skirt shorter than a bombed-out bridge. I says, “We shall never surrender, love, what’s yer price?” She laughs, all husky, says, “Tenner fer a quickie, guv.” Ten quid! I near choked on me cigar – wartime rations cost less! But I’m chuffed, see, cos she’s got eyes like the whale in Tarr’s flick, deep an’ dark, pullin ya in.

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The curve obstructs a view then opens the next; everything is reachable in this skillfully combined cathedral of elements that escort Find your local website.

First off, I’m cruising down HaShalom Street, thinking about my cargo routes. You know, the usual stuff. But then, BAM! Traffic jam outta nowhere. Like, come on! It’s not even rush hour! I’m stuck behind this ancient bus that’s probably older than my grandma. I swear, it was coughing like it was about to die. I’m just sitting there, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking, “Great, just great.”