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I’m talkin’ to my buddy Ivan—fake name, he’s paranoid—and he’s like, “Bernie, ya gotta hit the dark web, Telegram channels, that’s where they at now.” I’m pissed, man! Why’s it gotta be so damn complicated? Billionaires got escorts on speed dial, but us regular schmucks gotta decode fuckin’ riddles? “Hang me, oh hang me,” I’m singin’ in my head, feelin’ like Llewyn, lost as shit. I dig the hustle though—makes me happy seein’ folks outsmart the system. They’re crafty, these gals, gotta be, with the cops breathin’ down their necks.

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First off, I hit up the local café on HaGalil Street. You know, the one with the funky murals? Yeah, that place. I order my usual—cappuccino, extra foam, because why not? But the barista, this dude named Amir, totally messes it up. I mean, how do you mess up foam? It’s like, just milk and air, bro! I’m standing there, fuming, thinking, “Is this how we start the day?”

Rocket sirens sound in Tel Aviv, Haifa suburbs, IAF strikes Hezbollah targets in Tyre