I am a country bumpkin

Who knew? Nearly a month into my new life and it turns out I am cutest country girl!

I love my new big house and my back yard. Every morning I drink my coffee in the sun, and in the evenings I enjoy the breeze while I watch the dog curiously sniff the little trees in the yard. Jersey doesn’t get it. He’s a city dog- he goes out onto the patio and just sits there and only goes into the yard when prompted. He prefers to pee on the garbage cans instead of on the grass. We’re working on it.

But me- I’m a natural. I take walks to collect dry leaves in my bucket for my little backyard compost. I can’t wait to plant a garden. I love all the space and all the nature. I don’t mind that I don’t have a mall nearby, because I have tractors that drive by my house! I don’t miss the city smells (hot garbage mixed w/ homeless urine) because I have a new smell: cows! My new home sits in an agricultural village (moshav) and as it turns out, aside from the fields in the great view from my backyard, we have at least 4 cow sheds/dairy farms! The smell is not as bad as you might think. Don’t get me wrong, every now and then, when the cows have an extremely big lunch and the wind blows in just the right direction, the noxious fumes reach my windows, but you really get used to the usual, daily aromas. Usually, you don’t smell anything at all except nature. But the cow smells that are around, they blend into the nature smells. Yum!

No traffic, no horns honking, no yelling. The small price I pay: occasional ants and flies. I’ll take it.

Working part-time from home and looking for work in my spare time has been awesome for my while I get to know my new surroundings. I have time to explore. I have found these great outdoor exercise machines in the main area of the moshav. Anyone can use them and they are built two by two, so they make for a fun date- being outside, getting a work out, me and boo together, with Jersey, chillin in the grass next to us. Perfect family fun. We have a small general store on the moshav. It sells everything you could need- just enough. No horns honking, no traffic.

Here, I have the space to explore new parts of me- I have started to compost, and you wouldn’t believe how excited I get about garbage! It’s made me more aware of the food I put in my body and the waste I put in the bin. A good friend in a nearby city introduced me to a community-organized recycling center, garden and coffee shop that has classes on gardening and environmental issues. Unfortunately, I drive more than I used to, since I cannot walk to do any of my major errands, but I hope that once I get used to this lifestyle and save some money, I can see how I can be smarter about my fuel use. Being out here has connected me more to my surroundings, the earth, the environment. I’m sure I can’t do everything right, off the bat, but I am so much more conscious and open than I was before and that is a great start.

Mostly, I love the quiet. That is what I loved about Thailand, the quiet that allows you to think, relax, breath. The stress of life has a chance to subside for the time that I am staring out into the fields behind my house. On the moshav, the priorities are different- family, friends, nature, calm. I love these priorities- they make room for the good things in life like walking the dog, playing the guitar, dancing in your living room and having friends over for dinner.

So, when are you coming over for dinner?

This never should have happened

I am so upset. My heart sits in my throat- and lucky for that, because it helps prevent me from vomiting while I read the news unfold (the link to Israeli news in English, Ynet. Here is the NYTimes article).

This never should have happened. Turkey should not have allowed the boats to leave their port, knowing their destination was a closed port. There should not have been weapons on the boats. The people on the boats should have known that Israel would NEVER allow them into a closed port in a war zone, even if their intention to help rebuild and assist civilians was altruistic. They should have been arrested peacefully- it should have been the intention of both sides to have an end in sight that was non-violent. The Israeli government should have shown restraint. The army should have found a way to stop the boats that was non-violent and non-confrontational. The speakers on both sides should try to hide their disdain for each other- because human lives were lost and endangered today. Both sides and international factions should curb hate speech in order to try to avoid the war which could surely arise from this event.

This never should have happened. But now that it has, the world will come down hard on Israel. In some instances it will be well deserved criticism, in other instances it will be one-sided, hateful blame. No one in the western world will dare question the protesters, as to their attack on Israeli soldiers as they board the boat. No one in the liberal world will ask, “What did you think would happen when you stormed a closed port? What did you think would happened when you hit a soldier with a brow bar repeatedly?” Israel will turn more inward, alone, isolated and ever-increasingly right-wing, as is the trend of the last few years. People will get polarized on this issue, even more than they were last night before they went to bed and both sides will lose sight of the very reason we are all here in the first place: human life. Today, there was an utter disregard for human life on both sides- the army, and the Free Gaza Movement- and I am absolutely sickened by this event.

I am also terrified. With boo serving this week in reserves duty and my home set in Jerusalem, I can feel another war coming on and I can’t bear the thought. These activists knew they could provoke the next war in taking this boat trip and they don’t care that their actions not only got people killed today but will incite more anger, more hate, more violence on this Issue. And of course our Israeli government led by Bibi Netanyahu NEVER cares that its policies and actions put us in danger of constantly impending war.

Tonight I won’t go to any protests or rallies. NO ONE is right when it comes to violent clashes and lost lives. EVERYONE who came into contact with this issue as it unfolded should have and could have handled it better, more responsibly, with less political emotion and more respect for human life. And now, the leaders and journalists who react to it as we deal with the aftermath should choose their words carefully- because we can already see the lies spread out before us. It is impossible to know what is true and what is not. Everyone will believe what they want to believe. Every news agency and speaker has an agenda. I just wish that their agendas were aimed at protecting ALL of us from any more violence or war… I fear that they are not.

I am afraid of what today and tomorrow hold for us here in Israel- we are civilians, too. I am afraid to see the anger spread and aimed and fired. Today I had a day-dream that rockets started pouring down from the sky. Tonight I will surely dream of war.

A Glass Ceiling of our Own: Breaking into the Feminist Movement

Is it possible that we have created our own old bitches club and we are keeping ourselves out? I’m gonna go with yes, or else I wouldn’t be writing this post.

An old bitty Israeli feminist once told me that I am too inexperienced to know how things work with feminist organizing. I was young, I was ambitious and that pissed her off so much that she felt the need to shoot me down. But yes, it is possible that I could have used a more experienced woman to take me under her wing. Instead, this bitch put me down. This is one of the more blatant experiences that seems to point to a larger problem with the Israeli feminist movement, if there is one…

The thing is that I’ve been in Israel for nearly 6 years and I have been really active. Don’t get me wrong, I like to sit on the couch and watch TV some and I may have been slightly distracted by a marriage and subsequent divorce- but I have also been really involved in social change work in Israel. I have interned and volunteered, I have worked in non-profit organizations, I have attended conferences and classes. I have some great involved, feminist friends and mentors.

I have paid my dues. I am still willing to continue to pay my dues, and yet I cannot seem to break through. I can’t get on the right email lists, or get in with ALL of the right people. I don’t get invitations in time for events or conferences, and I have rarely if ever been approached to organize with Israeli feminists on an issue, despite the fact that my organizing skills are top notch, if I do say so myself.

When I have gotten involved in feminist or women’s organizing or when I have tried and failed, I felt like I was on the outside of a private club. Here are the impressions I got from these attempts:

• I am not old enough to really be a feminist. Us young kids with energy and dreams are just “pishers” to most of our old bitty predecessors (sorry, bitties, but that’s how it feels)
• I am not academic enough, or academically involved enough to really be a feminist
• I do not run a progressive organization and therefor, I am not feminist enough
• I am an immigrant. My Hebrew could never be good enough, and besides, I joined the game late
• I’m not quite lesbian enough (I know, I know, it’s hard to believe)
• I don’t identify as queer but I love me some LGBT rights. I am either too straight and therefor passe for the queer feminists or not homophobic enough for the straight feminists.
• I am not liberal enough in my other politics to be relevant

I have organized with the likes of great American feminist movements like NOW and Feminist Majority. I have contributed to and been published in a Women’s Studies academic and autobiographical anthology, called Leading the Way, out now by Rutgers Press (buy it!). I kick ass and take names. But it doesn’t seem to be enough. I have a Gender degree from one of the best Women’s Studies departments in the world from one of the most acclaimed (former) women’s colleges ever known to this great earth, Douglass College. Not enough.

So why can’t I get into this old bitches club? I don’t mean to be agist- truth is that age is just a number- I must be either too black or too Jewish to get into the snobby bitches club.

So good luck to me. I might as well start my own organization and start my own movement. And that is exactly where the Israeli feminist movement finds itself, in my opinion. It is a pile of splintered off attempts at feminist organizing. Many many great feminist activists- all splintered off into factions and tiny organizations that can barely afford their office space. Think about what would happen if 4 smaller organizations combined their power and their budgets- you get a large organizations that can actually make a name, afford full time staff, intake and handle incoming activists and volunteers and make real change. Otherwise, we are just a hundred whiny voices getting lost in a sea of men who are ready to abandon all of their morals and values, to work together in order to stay in power with their hand on the money belt.  But for us feminists here, we want so badly not to compromise on even one issue that we can barely work together, and we certainly are not making any progress on getting our hands closer to the money belt. I’m not saying we need to compromise all of our morals for power- but I am saying that we need to work together just enough in order to become a critical and influential mass.

So, here’s what I think we need to do:

1- Get united. We need to find a way, a forum, a will to unite around something larger than ourselves. Violence against women and gender-based violence, for example. Rape and domestic violence effects all of us, cross culture, cross age, race and gender lines. The punishment for rape and other forms of violence against women, especially gender-related violence, are laughable in Israel and it is simply not a priority for our government or in local law enforcement. Women are being killed by their spouses, trafficked, raped, assaulted and harassed every day and all day long in Israel. If we actually came together in our full numbers for a well planned long-term campaign, it would be impossible to ignore.

2- Mentoring. If every leader who is involved in the Israeli feminist movements mentored a young activist, kept her involved, kept her in “the know”, let her intern intensely on an important project, we’d be building something we could sustain. On a larger scale, if we adopted this mentoring approach movement wide and we’d open ourselves up to the power of the next generations. We would be breeding a smarter, more responsible citizenship of women.

3- We have to be open to a change within out own movement and organizations. We have to open our doors to people who don’t sound like us and don’t look like us. In a real way, not in a ‘ look, isn’t she a cute little (shhh… token)  young/immigrant/Palestinian/lesbian feminist’ way.  We need to begin to believe that we can create a movement that is not only relevant to executive directors and professors, but to all feminists especially those who are not yet being let in to this elitist club. Because we outcasts need this movement  just as much as the movement needs us. The work needs to be done to make participants and activists feel just as important as leaders in these movements and to foster volunteerism and activism in a new, inclusive way.

My point is that united, we could stand strong, but divided, we will surely remain stuck exactly where we fucking are.

My Israeli friends don’t stink!

In a VERY recent post, I outed Israelis for being stinky and not wearing deodorant. I want to clarify something here.

I am NOT talking about my friends. The company that I personally keep smells gloriously clean and fresh. My friends shower, wear deodorant and even use body sprays and lotions! My friends are fashionable and impressively stank-free! I am also not talking about arsim that wear WAY too much cologne. They may not have deodorant on but don’t worry, frechalita, they bathed in Drakar Noir this morning, so the pit stink won’t kill ya before the fake-Tommy fumes do.
So, loved Israeli ones, please don’t take offense. And if you are going to take offense, at least don’t pick such a pathetic post to be pissed off about. Be offended by my blatant hatred of reproduction, crying babies, and skinny people. Have you learned nothing from me? If you are going to get angry, at least make it count! Have a great-smelling day!

We want deodorant now

**

An open letter to Israelis from like-minded Israeli-immigrants from the US, Canada and England (also known as me, but holla at me if you agree!)

**

Dear general population of Israel,

You stink. Seriously, I’m not joking. Your natural odor is offending my senses. On the bus, on the street, in the office, at a concert, in the mall- you reek like sour garbage and work out clothes post work out. Do you work in the refet (with the cows) at kibbutz and forget to do laundry? The aroma that emanates from under your layered sweaty clothing is foul.

B.O. is a big problem in Israel for some reason.

Unlike the Middle East’s many other problems, this one is quite easily solved: Shower, Soap, deodorant. Repeat daily. It really is that simple.

As seen here

Just like I ask myself why I eat my feelings in attempt to understand how I rationalize pizza, burgers and a side of mashed

This is deodorant

potatoes, I ask you, stinky Israelis: why do you walk around stinking all day? I eat because I am unsure of my worth, I think I might be less anxious if I eat a good meal (Jewish Women Unite!), and I think it might satisfy me when life may otherwise disappoint. Here are some possible reasons my fellow immigrants have suggested as to why deodorant is not an implicit and automatic part of the Israeli routine:

1- Decent deodorant is expensive in Israel. But it’s not more expensive than crappy apartments, crappy cars, and tacky clothing that Israelis spend their money on. So that’s not it.

2- It’s hard to get really effective deodorant in Israel. This is still only a tiny bit true today but it does stand. I can’t get Secret deodorant here and I know Molly’s hubby can’t get his Old Spice here either. But still, if 95% of the population wore crappy cheap deodorant, it would still be a huge improvement from the current state of affairs.

3- Cultural differences. There are many different cultures that merge in Israeli society and for some reasons it seems that the vast majority of the various cultures meeting in Israel share in their love of naturally obnoxious stench fumes.

I’m out. I can’t think of any other semi-good reasons for an entire population of people not to wear deodorant. So we can officially rule that stinking up this whole country is just a stinking crime.

In closing, I would like to personally request that Israel’s Ministry of Education begin to use our taxes to provide hygiene instruction to children, since clearly Israeli parents cannot be trusted to do so and as anyone who has ever ridden a bus in Jerusalem at the same time high school lets out, teen hormones in Israel are just unpleasantly offensive to the nostrils as their zitty faces and gangly limbs are to our eyes.

Thank you for your time and lack of social graces.
Insincerely yours,

The Good Smelling Anglo Association of Israel

Go HERE for a follow up on this important post

HIV Prevention is Personal

I feel so passionate about my work, that sometimes I forget to draw lines between my work and my self. It’s not good, but it could be worse. I don’t work at a bank, a modeling agency (surprising, I know), a paparazzi magazine or a high-tech for-profit company. I run an HIV testing center, I am passionate about LGBT health, women’s health and I am worry about the spread of STDs and AIDS in Jerusalem, Israel and the world.

It’s only appropriate that this week is both World AIDS Day and my birthday, the holy 28th anniversary of leaving my moms V-G so as to go out into the world and eat, sleep, crawl, walk, run and change the world. With World AIDS Day just 2 days before my birthday, I am trying to think of it as a gift. As I organize events and work with service providers and activist to ensure that message of prevention gets to the maximum amount of people possible, I realize that this makes for a stressful birthday- but also a meaningful one. I am giving myself the gift of changing at least one person, but hopefully more- to hand them a condom and convince them that it only takes one incident of unprotected sex to get HIV.

I believe that with the guidance of my staff at the Open Clinic and every other wonderful activist that has gotten involved in the clinic’s work and the Open House’s health initiatives, we are changing people’s approach to sex, we are pushing the trends of rising  HIV infections and we are the change that needs to happen in society in order to stop the spread of this otherwise preventable disease.

So on my birthday, all I wish is that  tonight at our benefit party for the Open Clinic, we will raise more money to support more free HIV tests in Jerusalem, while having a great night. I hope that you will join us or go here to support the clinic’s work. I hope that more dedicated activists get involved in HIV prevention work- because for everyone one activist or donor there is at least one but probably hundreds of newly educated, sexually active young people who are taking responsibility and valuing their lives.

I know that personally I must set boundaries between my work and my personal life- but when I do blur the lines, as I am faulted to do, I am glad I do it for the right reasons. Join the fight against the spread of HIV- it will be the birthday gift you give to me, to yourself and the world.

Women Create

I know so many amazing women.

In time, I wish to be able to write about all of them. But in this post, I want to focus on two of my closest friends in Israel. Both women are brilliant, smart, motivated, multi-lingual and artistic. Both women are immigrants to Israel. Both women are independent and brave. Both women are mothers, both have triplets (all together now: Oy vey! Keinehora!)! Both women are artists, who began to create art after they had created new lives. They are recreating themselves in a way. I am so inspired by these women and I want to share their art with you.

Hilary is my honorary second mom/sista-from-anotha-mista from Kibbutz Saad. As well as playing several instruments and being instrumental in introducing me to her band, who allowed me to share a wonderful and musical year with them, Hilary is an acclaimed artist, as of the last few years. Several years ago, she took a class and that class turned into beautiful flower paintings and landscapes. Then came her abstracts- her use of color is amazing and the first 3 of that installment hang proudly in my living room. They lend color, depth and personality to the otherwise white blank slate room. They make me think of Hilary and her strength.

Hilary has 5 sons and a husband. That’s right, the woman has 6 kids in her house! I mean her oldest son helps a lot and her husband is a champ, but then she had triplets and God Bless Her, she then had one more just for fun. She is a nurse full time and over time, so she cares for people 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Her outlets, her music and her art are so expressive of her fun-loving personality, her kindness, her creativity, her open, adventurous side and her sensitive, feminine side.

Her latest installment of work is based on images of bamboo- the original piece was on request from a friend but as soon as friends and neighbors saw it, and the others- variations in size, color, negatives, neons, black and white- they began selling and going up in homes all over Israel, the US and Europe! Now, painting for fun is one thing, and it’s great- but on top of all of the other things to do in your life, to dream and act on a business concept, now that’s just fierce. But I understand her- I mean these pieces are good and they should be sold. I think that in the right markets, they could have serious mass appeal, which implies that her future work could have the same effect. I really believe in Hilary’s art and I love it. If you want to see more or get in touch with Hilary, contact me!

Marcia is a Brazilian queen, independent, strong, honest and kick-ass. Recently, she began designing clothes and, having been one of her first models I can tell you, this girl has vision, style and a serious understanding of how to make women look good. Her first two designs just hit stores all over Israel and I personally wear her wrap-meets-cardigan almost everyday. Marcia took this huge step- a new career, a new artform- within a year of just having triplets and building a new home. I don’t know anyone who would have the strength to do that. But she did. The first time I saw Marcia’s clothes, I already wanted one of each- they are flattering to all body-types and super sexy- dresses, tops, sleeves, oh my!

Marcia is the friend who met me at the airport when I made aliyah and helped me through the some of the hardest times of the past 5 years- and helped me celebrate some of the best times! Marcia has had quite an intense and amazing few years, she married a great man and gave birth to triplets! Yes, another set of triplets I am proud to know and love. With a big move and a broken leg, this woman has had her share of challenges this year.But she’s a champ and with her amazing family by her side, she’s kicking ass with her new clothing line!

Despite it all and with it all in her pocket, she still has the strength to start her own clothing design line, mass produce and market her women’s fashions. Her style is awesome, very feminine, very free-flowing, sexy, comfy but not shlumpadinka, curve-loving, beautiful fabrics and colors. Go here to see more and find a list a of stores, or contact me to get in touch with Marcia!

There are things we can all do everyday to support creative women like Marcia and Hilary- we can wear their designs and hang their art in our homes. We can talk them up, forward this post and other PR around to our friends and make sure we do our part to support these fierce women and their creations.

Go ahead, girls! Keep those creative juices flowing, we’re with you!

Quickie: The Rule of Go Big or Go Home

Go big or go home!

There is no way to succeed, make change or make a difference without putting your foot in your mouth a few times on your way there. Because the second you speak, or at least the second I open my big mouth, there is always a fair chance that I will say something stupid. In my family, we call this Foot In Mouth Syndrome, FIMS for short.

(Usually, here is where I’d put a picture of a little kid his foot in his mouth but when I searched Google Image for “foot in mouth” I got the most disgusting images on my screen. DO NOT DO THIS SEARCH IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH! I threw up in my mouth a little and couldn’t stay on the page long enough to get a picture. So no picture for you!)

FIMS symptoms include mumbling, stammering, insulting people to their faces, divulging secrets, saying things that are obviously false and saying the worst thing at the exact wrong time. Physical reactions include blushing, backing up towards the door and in the hours after the FIMS attack, smacking ones hand against their forehead, repeatedly screaming, “I am such a dumbass!!”.

The thing is, that in order to create change, you usually have to make a mess first. Change doesn’t usually come easily or smoothly- you gotta rock the boat, you need to take chances. You gotta start a revolution by making some noise. I’m not talking about violence, unless you consider explosive retardation violence. For me, every new job or new activist project I have ever taken has begun with 4-6 weeks chock full o’ fadichot- mortifying embarrassing moments. Granted, I work in my second language so I am no stranger to a consistent flow of blunders. But it never fails. When I take a step in a bold, new direction, I always come down with a case of FIMS at some point in the very beginning. I always recover, move on to be my eloquent, successful self but first, I embarrass the shit out of myself.

My usual FIMS flub is an unintended indirect insult in the form of verbal diarrhea. Like talking shit about a politician that my donor, who I am having lunch with, helped campaign for in his last election. Now, am I right about the politician being a douche? Probably, and in the long run it might even help my cause to have discovered their relationship. But in that moment, I just unknowingly insulted my donor and for days, I commence the head-smacking and “Dumbass!” proclamations.

The list goes on- including holding in my pee weeks into my new job, too embarrassed to admit that I still have not found the bathroom and not having asked in the first week, I fear it’s too late now. Embarrassing and bad for the bladder.

I’m not saying all of this to scare you- quite the opposite.  Go ahead, do something bold, get yourself a spitting case of the FIMS and then recover. Go big or go home- rock the boat, you’ll probably fall in at least once so bring a dry set of clothes! Don’t not do things because you might make a fool out of yourself. Do things knowing that you will definitely make a fool of yourself. Make a big ass fool of yourself because that’s how you roll- taking hits for your team in order to go places and do big things. I suffer from chronic, regenerative FIMS and you don’t see me crying about it- I keep on trucking, rocking, making moves, and taking names.

FIMS-  Nothing hurt, except your pride!

Strategy: Girls Scare Boys

Tired of being a strong, independent woman inside your apartment and then a shaky, scaredy-cat girl walking home at night?

Even in safe-city Jerusalem and especially in creepy New Brunswick, NJ I haven’t always felt self-assured on the streets at night. I’ve marched in some amazing Take Back the Nights- and it is so important to experience the unifying feeling of a women’s march against violence and rape. But we can’t always be lucky enough to be surrounded by hundreds of dykes while walking home from work (we should only be so lucky!). So I have taken two steps towards feeling stronger and more confident on the streets at night:

Step 1: IMPACT. Learn self-defense and IMPACT is the only way. It is a real life, real experience kick-ass course that builds confidence and teaches the moves while convincing you that you can do it. And believe me, I could if I had to. So find an IMPACT course near you and take it up ASAP (for Jerusalem and Tel Aviv go here).

Step 2: Act like a crazy lady on the street. It’s my new thing. I’m working out a way of scaring the scaries and freaking out the freaks.

Now, I know you might be embarrassed to do this but it works.

Case and Point: Last year, I was walking my dog at night in the field behind my house. The field is dark but my dog, Jersey, likes to poop there, so what can I do?I gotta go there. So, a young man comes up to play with Jersey and takes a step near me in the dark, invading my personal space and asking me if I live in this building. I can’t see the man’s face and I am feeling vulnerable to this potential threat. So I start yelling at him, like a crazy person. Using my IMPACT skills of telling the person violating my space that I want them to stop and walk away… but a bit loonier that they taught is in class. It’s my personal spin on the defense tactic.

He walks away.

A week or so later, two men walk by and the same thing happens- they play with my dog and then come up to me, asking where I live and why am I out here alone at night. I feel threatened, scared, so I started to yell at the guys. As they skulk quickly away in the shadows, I hear one console the other, “Don’t worry man, she did the same thing to me last week.”

Moral of the story: the roles are reversed now. I am the creepy neighborhood stalker now. I am the one who is freaking out the boys on the streets, late at night, skulking in the shadows. I love it.

Understand the tactic here: I am yelling normal, sane commands like “don’t step any closer to me” and “stop!”, “back up!”, but my eyes and my voice are conveying a slight crazy that implies a danger that women can’t always convey to men. Because, untrained, we are physically vulnerable, acting like a nut job gives us the necessary intimidating factor to feel safe.

It may not get you elected neighbor of the year or community prom queen but it helps me feel confident on the streets at night.

So walk that dog in your dark field, girl… just get you some crazy eyes and stay safe!

the breaking of a band

For over a year now, I have been singing in a band that I absolutely love. Loved. Great people, great friends, great musicians. The band is where I experienced my divorce- the sappy ballads that let me express the sadness, the hurt and the crazy, rockin’ love songs whose words I could at one point barely choke out. The band is where I met my new beau, sending secret text messages from across the room, before we ‘came out of the closet’ just a few months ago- the private jokes, the tension, the chemistry and the love songs that slowly took on a new meaning.

The music, the flubs, the laughs, the beats, the dancing, the flowing creativity.

I left the band recently, over a disagreement creative differences. It’s a loss not too different from quitting smoking, like losing a friend. I depended on those rehearsals, on the anticipation of a show or a potential gig. We played a few fun gigs but I wasn’t done. I respect the end, I know there wasn’t any other way. But I miss it. And I want to share it with the world via youtube.

————————————————————————————–

And now, a message from our sponsors:

BAND WANTED! Busty blond seeks band with heart and soul to rock out Jerusalem.

————————————————————————————–