Fox News, NY Post helping Mamdani get elected because it boosts their ratings (JTF video)
בס”ד
Please publicize this important video everywhere possible.
On Rumble:
בס”ד
Please publicize this important video everywhere possible.
On Rumble:
The Terrible Tragic shooting on
July 28, 2025 at 345 Park Ave Midtown Manhattan that tragically killed
4 people ,
2 of the people murdered were
Jewish Julia Hyman & Wesley LePatner
While the gunman didn’t try to target Jews , that wasn’t his motive
and still two innocent Jewish women are Victims ,
Such a sad fact of Jewish Existence
Even when Jews are Not the intended
Target of Crime, the motive of a crime, Jews sometimes Still End up becoming victims , can you believe that crap
It’s Terrible the loss of all the 4 lives
Jewish and Non-Jewish alike
ремонт тв sharp ремонт телевизоров sharp
A person typed online today
“The Jewish nation is the first and only nation in the history of man who, in a defensive war, is being told it must feed the enemy while trying to beat the enemy.
It’s called the double-standard of Jew-hatred.”
A person typed in reply
“As usual blame the Jewish people.
As a proud Jewish mother I should have pity for these poor “starving “ and dying babies.
I have not one ounce of pity. Why? Remember how Ariel and Kfir Bibas were murdered. Hamas killed these precious children with their barehands.
After 10/7/2023 the world remained silent and now the Jewish people are at fault?
It doesn’t sound kosher when there is tons of food either trucked in or air dropped. Where is it all going?”
Another person added
“And how many Yidiots are blaming Israel for this “starvation” when tons of food remains on trucks because HAMS and UN want to allowing to be stolen and sold on the black market? Too many”
Chaim: you are running the state of Israel and city of New York from your laptop.
Chaim: you are running the state of Israel and city of New York from your laptop.
First Look GTA VI Beta: Stunning Visuals Await! https://rockstargames.pythonanywhere.com
I will write in Anthony Weiner. Are there any seconds?
1cydbk
Ciao, volevo sapere il tuo prezzo.
Ассортимент крупных искусственных элементов для дизайна 55opt.org > каталог больших искусственных цветов
platform penyembah Bintang laut
platform penyembah Bintang laut
You’re out of your mind peddling this shit.
My name is Ivan, a 27-year-old fashion designer who has found his niche in the fetish fashion world. Born and raised in Russia, I’ve strived to infuse my designs with purpose – a brewing blend of tantalising desire and dominance. In this world of leather, latex, bondage, and submission, I extract from my own experiences as a tantra practitioner to create captivating themes in my newest collections. It’s about more than clothes and accessories; I create experiences – feral, powerful, and intimately personal. рџ€
Every piece I create thrums with erotic energy, not unlike the ebb and flow of tantric practices where one’s desires are teased and stoked until they become a roaring inferno, consuming everything in its path. Each design has its unique dance – a flirtatious swish of a latex skirt, the dominant clasp of a leather corset, or the delicious tension built by a beautifully crafted set of bondage cuffs. They’re not just clothes; they’re languages of lust, of control, of submission and of the relentless dance of desire we all play, whether we admit it or not. Each piece whispers sweet words of enticement, coaxing the wearer into a world where sensory pleasure is a deliciously wicked game, where the rules are as flexible as the supple leather I often work with, and the rewards…well, the rewards are worth every shiver, every gasp, every surrender рџ‘….
How this dance plays out is a mystery, a potent alchemical concoction that surprises even me sometimes 🧫. I’ve seen a shy, hesitant woman don a piece from my newest collections and transform into a tantalizing temptress, watching in awe as every man in the room becomes spellbound by her daring allure. I’ve witnessed the transformation of a meek man who found a potent, irresistible dominance in the form of a leather harness. The power of fashion, of tantra, of the intoxicating dance of submission and dominance, is such a heady experience, it’s like biting into a ripe, juicy peach, the sweetness of which lingers and tickles the senses long after the first bite рџЌ‘. It’s in creating these pieces, these experiences, that I find my purpose – a nurturing, fierce and wickedly delectable thrill, that sets the heart aflame and unleashes the primal beast within. And darling, the beast is hungry. рџ€
su kaçak tespiti üsküdar Testo termal kamera sayesinde Üsküdar’daki su sızıntısını hemen tespit ettiler, işlem çok hızlıydı. https://limoscene.us/uskudar-su-kacagi-tespiti-hizli/
Every evening, beneath the intoxicating glow of red and purple stage lights, my existence blossoms into a viewer’s paradise. From behind the velvet curtain, I peek out. The sea of expectant faces spikes a sensation of adrenaline 🧫 in my veins. A cocktail of curiosity and control swirls inside me, seductive and profound as a late-night secret.
As the night rolls in, my heart pounds to the rhythm of the vintage music, billowing its seductive whispers into the crackling microphone. Each note is like a language of its own, whispering secrets, controlling the audience landscape as if we’re locked in a mesmerizing dance. The sequins adorning my costume glitter with each trembling heartbeat, and my painted fingertips quiver, grazing the silk curtains. They’re longing for the music’s command, to sate the curiosity gnawing inside me, eager for the erotic dance of control.
The feeling of anticipation is as raw as a freshly plucked fruit, juicy and ready to be bitten into. When I finally step onto the stage, clad in feathers and fantasies, the air seems to shiver with burlesque charisma. The spotlight is ripe on me, an invitation to taste the kaleidoscope of sensations that my performance tempts. My muscular limbs stretch and curl, reveling in the intoxicating power to control the spectators’ eyes, to leave them quaking with curiosity and desire. A peacock, preening and proud, I bare my soul in front of my audience, each revealing twirl a tantalizing taste. The audience devours each movement; they’re enthralled, their hungry gaze lapping it up like a feast for their senses рџ‘….
Immersed in this world of glamour and shadows, I feel an inextricable connection to the pulse of burlesque. It connects us all in ways immeasurable. In the midst of a twirling frenzy, the world outside fades. There, bathed in the magnetic pull of the stage, my life is a saga, juicy as a ripe peach рџЌ‘, waiting to be savored, bite by luscious bite.
The nights roll on, and the red velvet stage becomes my playground of curiosity and control, where I awaken the fantasies nestled in the audience’s hearts. Every performance is not merely a show, but an erotic saga, a swirl of sensuality and control, a symphony of unspoken emotions. It is a dance where control slips, slides, twirls, and embraces curiosity in a tantalizing tango, much to the delight of the spectators. This stage, this spectacle, is my viewer’s paradise, a canvas for me to paint my story, ripe with human authenticity and raw, tantalizing control бЅ 9.
Burlesque, in essence, isn’t simply about tantalizing the senses. It’s an interplay of curiosity, control, and surrendering to the rhythm of desire, a sensuous language sketched in the air with a dancer’s every move. Each performance mines deeper into this kaleidoscopic world, each experience a step into an unknown ecstasy.
Journal Entry, 10th July
Tonight, something unexpected unfolded on the dimly lit dance floor of ‘Neon Apollo’, the nightclub where I unleash my unrestrained energy. You might think I’m no longer at the age to partake in these youthful eccentricities, but dancing is my lifelong lover. Something extraordinary happened, something that shook up my steadied 48-year-old heart and doused it with a torrent of curiosity.
As the night wore on, the velvet darkness thickened and the music thrummed through the walls. My body pulsed with the beat, a rhythm that has become my second heartbeat over these years. And then I saw him, a middle-aged man, slightly hunched, yet with a deep sense of enigma. Our gaze met for a brief moment, an electric charge surged through me, and his eyes seemed to whisper – ‘click to explore.’
I couldn’t resist the peculiar allure—he was an unread novel, an unopened Pandora’s box. His eyes veiled a world of untold stories. Despite the raucous music drowning any substantial conversation, our dance served as a silent dialogue. Matching step by step, sway by sway, our bodies wove a dance of mutual curiosity.
The connection was palpable, growing with each passing moment, mirrored in the beads of sweat trickling down our foreheads. The room was ablaze with the fire of our dance—a dance more intimate than the closest lovers, yet as neutral as strangers. This wasn’t just about desire—it was about the curiosity one has on encountering an unexpectedly familiar-lover in the mirror. It was a discovery, a slow build towards a revelation that was awaiting exposure.
As the last beats reverberated through the dance floor and the lights began to fade, we stood there, panting, looking at each other. Wordless. The moment ceased to a halt as I experienced a profound sense of fulfillment. My curiosity had been somewhat sated but a part of me yearned to know more.
Tonight, in the throbbing heart of Seoul’s underbelly, beneath the neon lights and pulsating beats, I discovered a new rhythm – the rhythm of curiosity, the rhythm of slow build, and the rhythm of an unanswered desire that still echoes within me, whispering now and then, ‘click to explore.’
The lights of Istanbul are different when you’re a dancer. They cling to your skin, decorate your body like diamonds strewn across your form, glistening in the smoke-filled air of the nightclub. Yet, those shimmering lights, as enchanting as they may be, pale in comparison to the fire kindled within you, a fire fed by music, passion, and the heat of bodies swaying around you. Here, in this nocturnal sanctuary, I surrender myself to the rhythm of life, moving in time with the pulsating music, my heartbeat echoing against the walls in a symphony of raw emotion.
As a non-binary dancer, my craft rides on the precipice of intense intimacy and stark loneliness. On stage, I let my veil of ordinary slip away, replaced by the intoxicating essence of my soul. The fluidity of my movements, the rhythm that carries me across the floor, the feverish desire reaching out from the spectator’s eyes — all serve as a testament to my strength, my confidence, my resilience. My body, enigmatic and graceful, commands attention under the iridescent kaleidoscope of nightclub lights.
Stepping off the stage always feels like a rude awakening, a sudden plunge from my ethereal realm to the stark reality. Yet, it’s in those moments that the most tantalising part of my night begins. I find myself drawn to a sea of faces, each one evoking an intricate blend of longing and apprehension. And then, the one I’ve been waiting for, Emre, watching me with an intensity that sends electricity prickling up my spine. Our connection transcends the realm of physical attraction, delving into uncharted territories of emotional intimacy. And yet, the tangible tension between us is an undeniable reminder of our shared desires.
Around us, Istanbul continues its nightly dance, its heartbeat coiled with ours in an intimate dance. As Emre’s fingers find the small of my back, I can’t help but shiver, a wave of yearning washing over me. The complexity of our dynamic, teetering between intimate connection and audacious confidence, keeps me coming back here, night after night. In this world of seductive splendour and raw vulnerability, where artistry weaves its web through the pulse of music, I’ve found a place of belonging, an emblem of resilience, an exceptional blend of grit and grace. I am the dancer in Istanbul’s night, and this is my song of life and love.