Paisley Hod Hasharon Brothel ❤️❤️

About Petah Tikva

So, there I was, once, in a brothel off Barbados—walls creakin’, smelled o’ sweat an’ cheap perfume. Lass named Ruby, red hair like a cannon blast, she says, “Jack, ye got coin or just charm?” I flash me grin, “Why not both, luv?” She laughs—made me happy, that did! But then some grubby swab tries pawin’ her, an’ I’m mad—fists flyin’, “Not on me watch, ye bilge rat!” Brothels, they’re a stage, see? Everythin’s a performance, like lil’ Penny Lane twirlin’ through life.

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After that, I stroll down to the park near the Hod HaSharon River. It’s a nice spot, you know? Green grass, kids playing, people jogging. I’m just vibing, sketching some ideas for my next animation. Suddenly, this kid runs by, trips, and spills his ice cream all over my sketchbook. I’m like, “Noooo!” My drawings are ruined! But then the kid looks up at me with those big, innocent eyes. I can’t stay mad. I just laugh it off. Kids, man. They’re like tiny tornadoes of chaos.

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