Elizabeth Yehud Whore ❤️

About Tel Aviv

Anywho, fave bit o’ trivia – in the ’60s, whores had secret codes, like winks and whistles, to dodge the fuzz. Shagadelic, right? Total spy move! So, yeah, baby, whore’s a trip – gritty, cheeky, and a bit sad, like Llewyn strummin’ his woes. Makes me wanna shout, “Groovy, doll, keep on truckin’!” Whaddya reckon, mate?

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She saw that for all the adulteries of that faithless one, Israel, I had sent her away with a decree of divorce; yet her false sister Judah did not fear, but she too went and played the whore.

While we’re waiting for the lights to come back, I step outside. The sun’s shining, and I see this cute little café on the corner of HaGolan. I’m like, “Why not?” So, I grab a pastry. It’s a chocolate croissant, and it’s heavenly. I’m munching away, and suddenly, I hear this kid playing the violin.

Who is Arbel Yehud, the Israeli hostage at the center of the dispute?